Dusty's Desert
by TinkerLJ
Summary: Dusty leads the Joes in a Desert Survival Training and learns the hard way that not everyone is cut out for desert living.
1. Chapter 1

_I'm taking the plunge here...Dusty's been growing in my imagination and I wanted to get into his head and explore him as a character. I'm a little timid, because I know there are a lot of Dusty fans out there with strong opinions about who he is. I will do my best to stay close to the Sunbow portrayal of him. Please feel free to give me a push in the right direction if he starts becoming un-Dusty-ish. There will be lots of other characters featured as well._

 _I won't tell you which episode triggered this idea. That's for you to figure out. That said, this takes place during the Sunbow series run._

 _Enjoy._

 _Disclaimer: I don't own GI Joe, Hasbro, Sunbow, or Marvel...The characters belong to them._

* * *

"Desert…, here I come."

Dusty grinned happily as he exited General Hawk's office. He had just been asked to lead the Joes through another Desert Survival Training Camp.

Hawk sat in his black leather chair, fingers steepled under his chin as he watched Dusty's joyful retreat. He couldn't help but smile at Dusty's enthusiasm. _He's a rare one, that one._

"Time to call in the boys," he muttered, "but which ones?" He began flipping through the roster from last year's training. "I'll let Duke and Scarlett stay at the Pitt this year," he decided. And that leaves, _Awww, yes,_ he smiled _, …that should work nicely._

A few moments later, Flint and Beach Head stood at attention before his desk.

"At ease, men. Have a seat," he motioned to the empty chairs in front of his huge oak desk.

"Thanks, Hawk," they both took their chairs quickly.

"I'm sending the two of you to the Colorado Plateau," he said, getting straight to the point, "Dusty's going to need support running his Desert Survival Training Camp."

Beach Head slowly crossed his arms over his chest without uttering a word; Flint, more openly, frowned.

"I'm fully aware that you both went through it last year." Hawk knew desert training wasn't a Joe favourite, "that's partially the reason why I'm sending you. You two will be going along in the assistant role. Dusty is the Joe's resident Desert Specialist. This is to be _his_ show; he's the expert. He did a wonderful job last year, and I trust he'll be just as thorough and informative this year. I'm sure the two of you will help out wherever needed…"

"Ahh can't wait to get out there," Beach Head muttered dryly, "The heat, the sand, the scorpions: what's not to love?"

"You said it, Beach Head, Yo Joe," Flint said unenthusiastically, giving Hawk a weak smile.

"I'm glad to hear you've both decided to change your minds about the assignment," Hawk's lips twitched, "It's only for two weeks. I'm sure you two can handle it for that long."

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. Dismissed."

The chairs creaked as Beach Head and Flint rose to their feet. Beach Head headed toward the door, Flint right behind him.

"Oh, and Flint…,"

"Sir?," Flint spun around to face the General. _What now?,_ he groaned inwardly.

Hawk's piercing eyes stared at him from under heavy brows, "Inform Duke that he and Scarlett will be staying behind at the Pitt."

"Yes, Sir," Flint sighed unhappily. _So Duke's the lucky one this time. Figures._

Flint found Duke in his office, up to his blond eyebrows in paperwork. He looked up as Flint entered, thankful for the interruption, even more thankful after he had heard the reason why.

"Well, there's something to be said for air conditioning, even if I am to be buried under paperwork." He let out a sudden laugh and continued, "Scarlett, however, is going to be thrilled."

"I suppose so," Flint sighed without enthusiasm.

Duke looked at him and chuckled softly, "Come on, Flint, it's not that bad. At least Lady Jaye will be participating in the training, right?"

"I, uh, don't know.… ," Flint stammered in surprise. He honestly hadn't had time to give it thought.

"Well, she should be…," Duke ploughed forward, "Last year, she stayed behind leading the Pitt crew."

Flint's mind began working quickly. _It's true Hawk hadn't mentioned her staying behind with Duke…only Scarlett. Maybe she was going._ _If so, things could definitely be beginning to look up._ He suddenly broke into a boyish grin, betraying his private thoughts.

"Maybe...," was all that he said.

Duke's smile broadened as he watched the change come over his friend's face. He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, "Lady Jaye's one of those who doesn't seem to mind grunt work and isn't bothered by snakes or spiders or those kinds of things, isn't she?"

"Yes," Flint shook his head slowly, a small curve to his lips, "Yes, she is. And, as you already well know, Duke," he said pointedly, " _her_ thing is heights."

"And I've allowed her that _one_ ," Duke leaned back in his chair and smiled, "After all, other Joes have their quirks, too. Hey, Lifeline won't even touch a weapon."

Flint smiled. What Duke had said about Lady Jaye had some truth to it. She was quite happy being covered in mud and sweat after a hard day's work, not that she didn't enjoy the shower afterwards…or being clean. It's just that she felt a great sense of satisfaction, like she'd really accomplished something, whenever she ended the day exhausted, sore and covered in dust and dirt and mud. _No, she won't mind this kind of training at all_ , Flint grinned even wider. _Maybe we could even manage to get away and have some fun._

"I think It's only fair to warn you, though. After Scarlett's and Cover Girl's experiences last year, It may be wise to expect the unexpected when it comes to Desert Survival Training...especially when it comes to Joe women."

Flint let out a laugh, his mind quickly turning from Lady Jaye to the fiery redhead, Scarlett, "Good point. I'll remember that."

Duke, still caught up in his memories shook his head, smiled, "You know..., I really thought Scarlett was going to be just fine with all the heat and the sand until she found that tarantula in her tent."

Flint chuckled, "And then everyone else in camp knew about it, too."

"I know…," Duke groaned, "And then Cover Girl had a similar encounter with a the desert centipede. I saw her running it over with a Mauler," Duke winced and rubbed the back of his neck, "over and over again."

Flint almost laughed out loud again, catching himself at the very last minute, "I'll give her that one. Even I thought those centipedes were ugly. But, Scarlett's always had a thing about spiders, hasn't she?"

"Oh, yeah." Duke chuckled, "For as long as I've known her. Never did understand how a woman who could so easily take down a 200 pound man could be terrified of a little spider," Duke's eyes suddenly glinted wickedly, "… And then when Shipwreck found that dead tarantula…Oh, boy…You know, he's lucky he's still breathing."

"I'll say."

They both laughed, remembering the explosive scene.

"SHIPWRECK!" Scarlett had yelled, taking a step back, "GET THAT THING AWAY FROM ME!"

"Awww, come on Red," his grin widened, "It's just a little spi…," he stretched his hand.

She eyed him warily as he and took a step toward her, a goofy grin on his face.

"I SAID KEEP IT AWAY!," her blue eyes glittered dangerously.

"Shipwreck really should have known better," Flint muttered, his lips twitching.

"Yes, he should have," Duke agreed.

"But instead, he did the worst thing possible."

"Yup," Duke chuckled, "He took another step toward her."

The next thing they all knew, Shipwreck was was on his back with Scarlett poised above him, her crossbow pointed at his heart.

"If you value your life at all, you will keep those eight legged aberrations away from me," she hissed angrily. Then, chest still heaving, she turned toward the gathered crowd. "That goes for the rest of you, too," she threatened, her eyes flashing.

The Joes gulped and quickly retreated, leaving Scarlett and Shipwreck alone.

"I gave her a wide berth myself for days," Duke confessed.

"So did I," Flint admitted, "Seemed like the wise thing to do at the time."

"Believe me, it was. She eventually cooled down and got over it, but I don't think she'll be wanting to do a desert survival _anything_ any time soon."

"No, probably not," Flint smiled and rose from his chair. "Well, I need to get going. I have some paperwork of my own to finish before packing."

"We'll hold the fort down from here," Duke promised, smiling, "Try to have some fun, and we'll see you when you get back." His face fell as he returned his attention to the stack of papers cluttering his desk.

Flint was feeling much better as he shut the door behind him. _With Lady Jaye coming along, he might just do that._

* * *

Dusty's hands were shaking slightly and his mouth was dry. Even though he could take on the role of leadership and do it well, it didn't mean he had to like it. He stood at the front, sweeping his gaze over the large group of red faced Joes sprawled out on the sand in front of him. Already, most of them were looking pretty uncomfortable in the rising heat. They were fanning themselves with their hands, wiping the sweat from their faces and necks with towels, handkerchiefs, sleeves, shirts or anything else handy. He had to stifle a laugh as he watched them, despite his own nervousness.

And then, as if against his will, his eyes were drawn past the group of Joes, to the empty sand dunes beyond. His face grew soft as he gazed at it, lost, for the moment, in their beauty and he had to smile. _He was home._

"Well… guys," he turned slowly to to the Joes, "lemme start by welcoming ya all to the desert," his eyes were bright with happiness.

"Take a look around..., go ahead," he said encouragingly, "It's beautiful, ain't it? Breathe deep... It's clean. It's pure. You know…," his voice grew soft, "people sometimes ask me why I love the desert. This..." he spread his arms wide as if embracing all that was in sight, "is why."

Born in Las Vegas, Dusty had known the desert intimately from a young age. He could honestly say he was most at home among the heat and the sand and the dryness. As a young man, he had spent much time alone, patiently gleaning the desert's secrets. He had come to realise that the desert was not lifeless and barren, but a beautiful world teeming with hidden life. He had dealt with the dangers and developed a healthy respect for the desert. Even in the harshest arid environments, he had learned the secrets to survive. So, when it came to the desert, Dusty's expertise shone.

"But, ya hafta understand," he continued, "just as the desert is beautiful, it is also harsh and unforgiving and If yer not properly prepared, the simple fact is… the desert will get the better of ya…, always…, and odds are, ya won't make it."

Nervous murmurs rose up and spread quietly among the Joes.

"Now, maybe I can't expect ya all to appreciate the desert like I do, but yer knowing how to survive could mean the difference between life and death, or even the difference between a successful mission and a failed one. My job is to teach ya what you need to know for both," Dusty scratched his chin as he quietly scanned the faces gazing up at him, faces of friends and teammates and young Green Shirts he had not yet met.

The sun had risen high and was beating down on them mercilessly. Sweat was streaming down their flushed faces. This was new to a lot of them and many were listening with wide eyed expressions.

 _They had a lot to learn, but that's why he was here,_ he mused. He would do his best.

His face brightened into a warm smile, "Again, let me welcome ya all to the desert, _my_ favourite place in the world," Then he pulled out his canteen and took several long gulps.

"How can he love the desert?" The Joes began whispering in small groups among themselves, whining and complaining in their discomfort.

"The heat, the sand…"

"The snakes…"

"Just give me a nice, cool, wet ocean, anytime," Shipwreck muttered, "I've already had more than my share of desert living and it sure ain't _my_ favorite," he mopped his face. "I'm a sailor, not a sand pirate!"

"Put a lid on it, Wreck," Beach Head hissed. "We all gotta be here. Hawk's orders."

"Why can't we ever do a training on a nice tropical Island," he grumbled.

"I'm with you," Alpine laughed. "The beach. Now, that's the kind of sand I like."

"Hey, it ain't that bad, guys," Gung Ho grunted, ignoring the glare Beach Head was throwing at him, "This kinda reminds me of summers back home."

"I thought you grew up on a bayou or something," Shipwreck mumbled as he removed his white sailor hat and began fanning himself lazily.

"I did. The heat feels the same though, even without the humidity and mosquitos and alligators and swamp…."

"In other words, nothing like a desert at all…huh?"

Gung Ho gave a snort, "Well, on second thought, mebbe not…but it was still hot."

"Shhh, he's like, still talking," Footloose hissed.

They grumbled softly as they turned their attention back to Dusty.

"Be aware, the desert won't take it easy on ya. The days'll be blistering hot, the nights freezing cold," his mouth curved into a small smile, "and sometimes there's dust storms, flash flooding, snakes and scorpions," he gave a happy sigh, "I'll say one thing for the desert, it'll always…always keep ya on yer toes."

He bent down and took a handful of sand.

"Not much water in the desert, either…," he said simply, "Always remember to carry yer water with ya at all times. Water keeps you cool and keeps you hydrated, it keeps you alive. Drink whenever you're thirsty. Drink a lot. Sipping it does not get it to your brain and vital organs. If it's half empty, fill it. Keep it wth you. Stay alive."

A hand raised.

Yes, Quick Kick?"

"So, um, just how much of that good wet stuff should we be consuming?"

"Well…," Dusty thought a minute, "A full grown adult should be drinking one to two gallons a day out here. And being that were gonna be a bit more active, I'd say closer to two for all of us." He looked over the assembled group, "So, that means water on you all the time and yer drinking all the time, no exceptions. Oh, and Quick Kick," he glanced toward his bare feet and raised an eyebrow, "out here in the desert…, I suggest you wear shoes."

Titters of laughter spread through the Joes. Quick Kick had been known to go barefoot even in ice and snow.

"Don't cha worry none, O Wise Desert Sensei, I'm already way ahead of you on that one. Got a pair of sneakers packed in my duffle," he grinned amiably and wiggled his bare toes, "When this sand gets too hot, I'll put 'em on."

Dusty grinned at him good-naturedly, "Good enough, then."

He turned his attention back to the wider crowd, "Okay folks, pay attention now. While we're here, we're gonna be on a buddy system. I'll let ya choose yer own partners but everyone, and I mean everyone, has to have one. Partners are gonna watch out for each other because hands down, the greatest danger you'll be facing in the desert is dehydration. Let your partner know if your feeling any symptoms. Make sure each other is drinking enough water. If they're not, remind them," he took a swig from his own canteen to emphasise the importance of his point.

Several of the Joes pulled out their own canteens and took drinks as well. Dusty grinned and nodded approvingly.

"Uh, I guess the next thing we need to do is go over the warning signs for dehydration. Doc, here'll tell you all about it so listen up."

Doc stood up and made his way to the front. He pushed his glasses up his nose, adopting a clinical expression and then he cleared his throat loudly before beginning.

"Mild to moderate dehydration may include increased thirst or dry mouth. You might also feel tired or sleepy, or experience dizziness or headache. Take notice of how often you urinate."

A few sniggers could be heard from the back. Beach Head and Flint both turned and shot glares toward the guilty parties. Alpine and Bazooka quickly smothered their laughter and feigned innocence.

Doc ignored them and continued talking, "Less frequent urination or a change in the urine's color to yellow or cloudy is another indication of early dehydration. I shouldn't have to emphasise what Dusty already pointed out. Drink…and then drink some more."

Everyone nodded. A few pulled out their canteens and drank some more.

Doc pushed his glasses up again but it was a losing battle. They slid down almost immediately because the perspiration. He left them where they were, sighing loudly.

"Symptoms of severe dehydration should never be ignored. The first signs are decreased urine output or no urine output at all. The urine produced, if any, is concentrated and a deep yellow or amber colour. Other symptoms of severe dehydration include dizziness or lightheadedness that keeps you from standing or walking normally. Also, you may experience a sudden drop in your blood pressure when you try to to stand up after lying down."

"That always happens when I drink too much…"

"SHIPWRECK…," half a dozen voices spoke in exasperation.

"Sorry," he grinned sheepishly.

Doc shot him a glare over the yellow rims of his glasses and continued his lecture, "Watch for other signs such as rapid heart rate, fever, lethargy and confusion. In worst cases there could be coma or even seizure. Dehydration can be deadly if not taken seriously. Listen to your body. Watch for the signs. If you experience any of the mild symptoms, increase your water intake. If the symptoms worsen or you show signs of severe dehydration, have myself or one of the Green Shirt medics check you out at the infirmary right away. Always remember, dehydration is preventable if you keep yourself hydrated."

Doc signalled for Dusty who resumed his place at the front.

"All righty, any questions?"

The only response was Joes stirring softly as they wiped the sweat from their faces or fanned themselves trying to cool down.

"No? Okay then, let's break. Extra canteens are available by the tank."

The Joes stood stiffly and began brushing sand from their uniforms, talking softly among themselves.

Flint, followed closely by Lady Jaye, wove his way through the Joes to the front.

"Nice job, Dusty," he smiled kindly.

"Yes, it was very informative," Lady Jaye quickly agreed.

"Thanks guys," Dusty grinned, slightly embarrassed by their praise. "Would ya believe I was a nervous wreck the whole time…"

"Oh…, Not at all," Lady Jaye lied, a bright smile on her face.


	2. Chapter 2

Lady Jaye spotted Dusty in the distance, a lean dark shadow seated on the top of a sand ridge. She gave a small sigh of relief and sped up her approach, her feet slipping noiselessly in the loose sand. He blended into the environment so well she had almost missed seeing him.

"Dusty?," she called up softly.

He looked down at her, smiling, and pressed a finger to his lips. Then, he patted the sand in invitation. Lady Jaye accepted without hesitation, instantly scrambling up the side of the dune. Once on top, she quietly sat down beside him, thankful for the moment's rest. Taking deep breaths, she willed her rapidly beating heart and breathing to slow.

"It's beautiful, ain't it," his upturned face reflected the brilliant glow of the stars above.

Lady Jaye slowly moved her gaze from his shining eyes to the vastness spreading above and had to choke back her surprise. _It was beautiful_. Stars stretched across the inky black sky, more numerous and brighter than she had ever seen them before, the whiter band of the Milky Way clearly visible. Gazing in silence, she suddenly had to fight back the desire to reach out and touch them. Her hand twitched.

A knowing smile crossed Dusty's face. He reached over to lay his own hand over her's to still it, "Ya can't. I've already tried many times," he said quietly.

She stared at him, surprised, and slightly embarrassed. Then she turned her gaze once again to the dazzling ceiling above. She was glad he couldn't see her blush in the darkness. It was usually she who read people with uncanny precision. She was not used to being on the receiving end.

"When I was a kid, I always loved the desert stars," he spoke softly. "I used to sneak out at night just so I could get away from the city lights and look at them," he chuckled, "My ma never knew…"

"I can see why," she whispered, "they are absolutely breathtaking." She shivered slightly and wrapped her arms around her. With the sun gone, the temperature was falling rapidly.

"So what brought ya here?" He turned to face her, her sudden movement having brought him back to the here and now.

"Oh," she stiffened, suddenly remembering, "Flint and Beach Head sent me looking for you. The meeting is being moved up to 2100 hours."

Dusty glanced at his watch, "Guess that only leaves us ten minutes."

Jaye's eyes followed him as he rose without another word and began shaking off the sand. Then, he extended a hand to her.

Lady Jaye stared at him in quiet surprise. She had never seen this side of Dusty before. She took the offered hand and he pulled her to her feet, waiting patiently as she had brushed the sand from her own BDU's.

"We'd better get going," He said simply, once she had finished.

"Right…," She took the lead, "Follow me."

From the edge of her vision, Lady Jaye saw him cast a wistful glance back toward the sky above him. Her own face held a thoughtful expression as she led the way noiselessly back across the slippery sand.

* * *

Hawk had already scheduled regular check ins with his command team, Dusty, Flint and Beach Head, before they had left the Pitt. With the majority of the Joes and Green Shirts participating in the training, if something came up, the General wanted to be able to reach them instantly. Though a participant and not a leader, he had also requested that Lady Jaye, being an Intel officer, attend this first meeting.

"Hawk, we're all here now… ," Flint informed him as Lady Jaye and Dusty pushed the tent flap aside and stepped inside, "Lady Jaye and Dusty have just arrived."

He was speaking into the special com unit Mainframe had developed. It allowed for instant private access between Hawk at the Pitt and the Desert Camp Command team.

Flint and Beach Head were seated on one side of the small table they used for conferences. The late arriving Lady Jaye and Dusty quickly took the empty seats on the other side. They had gathered in the command tent, under the dim lighting powered by a small generator.

Beach Head, frowning, pointed to his watch and mouthed, "yer late."

Lady Jaye bit back a retort and directed her voice sweetly toward the com, "Sorry we're late, Sir…It was my fault. It took me longer than I expected to locate Dusty."

What she had said was true. She had been trudging around for over an hour before finding him, and then ended up hiking an additional twenty minutes back to camp.

"That's fine, Lady Jaye," the General quickly brushed aside her apology, "Our meeting was moved up on short notice. So, tell me, how was your first day? Is everything going well for you?"

"Just fine," she relaxed and smiled, "Dusty's doing a great job and I'm already learning a lot."

"As I expected," he chuckled.

"I had no idea there was so much to learn," she laughed lightly.

"Well, that's why Dusty's in charge. He's the expert when it comes to the desert."

"That he is, Sir," she reached over and squeezed Dusty's arm.

Dusty shifted in his chair uncomfortably, his face breaking into an embarrassed grin.

"So, what's the next item of business?," the General addressed his question toward Flint and Beach Head.

"Camp is up and fully operational," Flint was quick to inform him.

"Good…good."

"Helicopter pad is also ready," Beach Head added.

"Already?," Hawk said in a pleased tone, "very good indeed."

"The Joes have been working hard, Sir."

Dusty had certainly put the Joes through the paces, getting camp set up despite the blazing sun and intense heat.

The result was that a temporary Joe camp was now in place. The very same they had reported to Hawk. Small tents dotted the sand, several large water tankers were parked to the south, a helicopter landing pad had been prepared. The Joes had levelled and smoothed and packed the sand as best they could. Portable latrines had also been constructed. Showers were not available due to water restrictions, but each Joe was allowed a gallon of water a day for personal hygienic purposes. There was no mess, but in a shaded area, wooden crates held MRE's which served as breakfast, lunch and dinner meals.

"Looks like you three are doing an excellent job running the camp. Keep up the good work."

"Yes, Sir! Thank you, Sir."

"How's everything from your end? Any news of Cobra?," Flint asked.

"Unfortunately…, yes," the General said slowly, "Our British counterparts have just informed me that they are currently monitoring some recent Cobra activity."

"What could Cobra be up to in Britain?," Lady Jaye wondered aloud. The Brits only involved themselves with Cobra when it involved their own soil.

"Well, that's just it, Lady Jaye," he sighed, "Intel reports indicate that Cobra may now be headed toward Vegas."

Lady Jaye's eyes widened, "Las Vegas! But…, why would the Brits be tracking them here?"

Beach Head's and Flint's eyes met in disbelief. Las Vegas wasn't that far from where they were holding their Desert Training.

"Cobra out here? Are they crazy? We have an entire Joe regiment with us!," Beach Head snarled.

"Yeah…Hawk, and we haven't exactly been secret about our presence."

"I know, I know…. It seems unbelievable to me, too, Flint. I'm to meet with their representing agent tomorrow and hopefully find out just that. For the moment, I'm willing to let them handle the situation. I'll let you know if we decide to involve the Joes."

Lady Jaye's forehead wrinkled. She sensed Hawk wasn't being entirely forthcoming. As an Intel Specialist, she was quite aware that something wasn't adding up. He had completely ignored the most obvious question. _Why would the British be following Cobra to the US?_

For the first time, Lady Jaye began feeling the isolation of their desert camp and wished she had access to a computer or her files. But she didn't. She didn't have anything. Her brows knotted together in frustration.

"So you don't want us to do anything, Sir?"

"No, Flint, Not yet. I'll keep you apprised of the situation."

"Okay, Hawk," he grumbled.

"Hawk out."

The Joes cast thoughtful glances toward one another.

* * *

Their second morning began early. The Joes stumbled out of their tents for PT even before the sun had risen. Shivering and bleary eyed, they followed Beach Head on a three mile run across the sand in semi darkness. Now, the early morning sky was changing rapidly from pink to orange to yellow overhead, the day already growing warmer. The Joes were fully awake and talking noisily as they finished cleaning up after their morning meal.

Flint and Beach Head threaded their way carefully through the assembled Joe crowd.

"Morning, guys," Dusty looked up, greeting them amiably. He had just finished his own breakfast.

Flint and Beach responded with nods.

"Ready to start the day?," Flint asked.

"Ready as I'll ever be," he gave a short laugh and rose to his feet, "Day two. Here goes nuthin…," he dropped his empty MRE bag in the nearest waste receptacle and headed for the platform. Then he stood there in silence, waiting until everyone had quieted.

"Good morning, Joes. It looks like another gorgeous day. I hope ya all rested well in those nice tents we provided for ya here in camp. But, don't forget, my job is to prepare ya for out there. Out there…," Dusty swept his arm towards the vast desert and grinned, "you'll have to find or make yer own shelters."

Flint's and Beach Head's lips lifted in identical smirks. They both knew where this lesson was heading. They scanned the immediate area, quickly selecting ideal building spots.

"Shelters are not just important for a place to sleep at night. They're important for a number of other reasons as well. During the hottest part of the day you rest, conserve your body's water…There's very little shade out in the desert, so you'll have to be prepared to make yer own."

"Today, yer gonna practice how to make a shelter with just a few simple supplies; a tarp and a hand shovel. In your survival packs you'll find what you need to get started."

Dusty then proceeded to carefully build his shelter, explaining each step so that it could be repeated or improvised as needed. He made it look easy. When he had finished, he crawled into the shade underneath and poked his head out.

He was smiling in amusement, "This morning's lesson is simple. Once ya get yer shelter made, you can rest. Until then, happy building." He took a long drink from his canteen and then wiped his mouth, "and don't forget to be drinking plenty of water."

"Ya can begin.…," With a parting smile, he slid back into the shade of his shelter and made himself as comfortable as possible.

The Joes dug into their survival packs eagerly and pulled out their own reflective tarps and shovels.

"Piece of cake," Ace said smugly.

"This oughta be easy," Gung Ho muttered confidently, scanning the area.

"You'll have to improvise," Dusty had said, "look around and use what you find in the desert. Choose a good location for your construction site. Don't fight the desert, work with it."

Dusty's philosophy for surviving the desert was that one should not alter the desert to fit individual needs, but instead adapt and become part of the natural ecosystem already in place.

Each Joe immediately set to work. They wandered around, looking for dunes with rocks, for something to build into, something that might be used to construct walls or could be used as weights. It wasn't anywhere near as easy as Dusty had made it look.

Beach Head was the first to select a location and construct a shelter, not surprisingly, but Flint was just a few seconds behind him. The two shared smug grins as they slid into the welcome shade of their tents and pulled out their canteens. Raising them in the air, they pretended to clink them together.

"Cheers," they called.

Flint then turned his amused grin to watch Lady Jaye scampering about.

She had wisely set her eyes on a juniper bush, situated near a rough rock formation, poking out of the sand. But, unfortunately for her, so did Gung Ho. They reached it at the same time.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, the desert heat had quickly risen with it. Under the brightening sun, sweat was already streaming down their flushed faces. They stood arguing about who was going to use the location for several minutes before they finally realised, that with some creativity, they might share be able to share the space. Instantly, each claimed a side of the bush and then began digging in the soft sand. Dusty had instructed them to create a hollowed trench about two feet deep.

Gung Ho was the quicker in getting his dug and easily fixed and weighted his tarp over it. He grinned triumphantly and winked at Jaye as he crawled inside.

"Awwww, shade….," he spoke loudly. Then he opened his canteen and gulped his water noisily. "This is so nice…"

Lady Jaye growled and set to work faster. She had dug into sand initially like Gung Ho but then had run into rocks on her side almost as soon as she had removed the sand's top layer. It took a lot of extra time and effort to dig around them so they could be removed but she did, and she incorporated them creatively in building a rough wall on one edge above the trench. Then, wiping the sweat and sand from her eyes, she pulled the tarp over the top and weighted it down with the remaining rocks. The result was a shelter tall enough to crouch in and long enough to stretch out. With a satisfied sigh, she slid inside gratefully, away from the hot sun. Inside, as she gulped water thirstily from her canteen, choosing to ignore the amused laughter coming from Gung Ho's shelter.

Each shelter was slightly different and unique in it's own way.

Shipwreck had simply dug a hole in the sand and then covered it with the tarp, weighting the edges with more sand. Then he crawled in carefully, hoping he wouldn't accidentally bury himself. Each small move had him sweating with worry, though, as sand trickled down the sides of his trench, slowly refilling the hollow he had made. It wasn't long before sand was in his boots and down his shirt and in his beard. He was sadly reminded of the time before he became a Joe when he and Flint and Mutt had been caught in a desert storm and nearly buried by a huge wave of sand. He had lost his sand ship on that one. _Great little vessel, too_ , he sighed mournfully.

One by one, the Joes managed to create some form of sun shelter and then crawled inside to the welcome relief from the blazing sun.

Dusty carefully observed their efforts, complimenting some, giving suggestions to others.

They stayed until all the shelters had been constructed and the sun had traveled into the west, the hottest part of the day behind them. Then, Dusty announced that it was time for chow; MRE's were available by the water tank.

"Yeah!" the Joes yelled, popping out of their holes like rabbits. They had worked up appetites digging in the sand and it had been a long time since breakfast. Many of them rushed to the meal crates. Then they spread out in whatever shade they could find.

Flint found a spot next to Lady Jaye. She was wrinkling her nose as she tore open her meal pack. The aroma had wafted up, a mixed jumble of unidentifiable smells.

"I wish MRE's could be made to taste better," she sighed, taking a small, cautious bite and rolling it around on her tongue. "Not even hunger makes one very appetising."

"I know what you mean," he examined the stringy meat and then popped it into his mouth, "but they're not made with taste in mind…they're made to keep bodies moving."

"Well, I suppose they do that," she admitted, but she still couldn't help making a face before taking another bite.

"Well….," he leaned close and whispered into her ear, "If we can get away, I promise to take you out for a real meal."

"Now, that sounds absolutely heavenly, " Lady Jaye's lips curved into a smile. Then she lowered her voice so that only he could hear. "But just how do you propose to do that, Mr. Warrant Officer, Sir?," she asked coyly, her eyes sparkling. She was game if he was.

He gave her a lopsided grin, "Don't worry, I'll think of something."

Her smile faded as she turned her attention back to her colourless meal. She let out a huge sigh and scooped out another bite of her chicken and rice, chewed slowly, and swallowed.

"Hey Dusty, aren't we ever gonna have anything besides these MRE's to eat?," Shipwreck complained as Dusty took a seat next to Flint. "How about some fresh food…You know what the DOD says….a little A-rations…"

"Sorry. Not until you catch it yourself, Sailor," he smirked. "That lesson comes later."

"Ugh…," Shipwreck groaned and set his half eaten MRE to the side. "Seriously, Dusty? You really want to torture us, don't you?"

Lady Jaye leaned into Flint, her face slightly pale, and whispered, "If you take me out of here for that one, I'll love you for ever."

"I thought you already loved me…" his eyes teased.

"Well, let's just say I'll love you even more," she smiled impishly, her cheeks dimpling.

"Hey, you gonna eat that, Wreck?," Gung Ho pointed eagerly to Shipwreck's half eaten meal.

"Be my guest," Shipwreck shrugged and handed him the uneaten portion.

Gung Ho took it and began happily shovelling the remaining food.

Shipwreck watched him in disgust.

"Shipwreck, you know you should be eating all of that," Flint chastised him.

"Yeah, well…I guess I'll live."

"MRE's are better than catching yer own," Alpine mumbled, busily consuming his own meal.

"I know, don't remind me," Shipwreck paled visibly as he watched him eat, "Man, I wish I was on a ship somewhere…anywhere but here…," he sighed and cradled his head in his hands.

"If you were, Wreck, I'd be with you," Lady Jaye gave him small smile.

"Really, Doll?," he turned to her, his face brightening.

"No," Flint spoke firmly.


	3. Chapter 3

Lady Jaye spotted Dusty in the distance, a lean dark shadow seated on the top of a sand ridge. She gave a small sigh of relief and sped up her approach, her feet slipping noiselessly in the loose sand. He blended into the environment so well she had almost missed seeing him.

"Dusty?," she called up softly.

He looked down at her, smiling, and pressed a finger to his lips. Then, he patted the sand in invitation. Lady Jaye accepted without hesitation, instantly scrambling up the side of the dune. Once on top, she quietly sat down beside him, thankful for the moment's rest. Taking deep breaths, she willed her rapidly beating heart and breathing to slow.

"It's beautiful, ain't it," his upturned face reflected the brilliant glow of the stars above.

Lady Jaye slowly moved her gaze from his shining eyes to the vastness spreading above and had to choke back her surprise. _It was beautiful_. Stars stretched across the inky black sky, more numerous and brighter than she had ever seen them before, the whiter band of the Milky Way clearly visible. Gazing in silence, she suddenly had to fight back the desire to reach out and touch them. Her hand twitched.

A knowing smile crossed Dusty's face. He reached over to lay his own hand over her's to still it, "Ya can't. I've already tried many times," he said quietly.

She stared at him, surprised, and slightly embarrassed. Then she turned her gaze once again to the dazzling ceiling above. She was glad he couldn't see her blush in the darkness. It was usually she who read people with uncanny precision. She was not used to being on the receiving end.

"When I was a kid, I always loved the desert stars," he spoke softly. "I used to sneak out at night just so I could get away from the city lights and look at them," he chuckled, "My ma never knew…"

"I can see why," she whispered, "they are absolutely breathtaking." She shivered slightly and wrapped her arms around her. With the sun gone, the temperature was falling rapidly.

"So what brought ya here?" He turned to face her, her sudden movement having brought him back to the here and now.

"Oh," she stiffened, suddenly remembering, "Flint and Beach Head sent me looking for you. The meeting is being moved up to 2100 hours."

Dusty glanced at his watch, "Guess that only leaves us ten minutes."

Jaye's eyes followed him as he rose without another word and began shaking off the sand. Then, he extended a hand to her.

Lady Jaye stared at him in quiet surprise. She had never seen this side of Dusty before. She took the offered hand and he pulled her to her feet, waiting patiently as she had brushed the sand from her own BDU's.

"We'd better get going," He said simply, once she had finished.

"Right…," She took the lead, "Follow me."

From the edge of her vision, Lady Jaye saw him cast a wistful glance back toward the sky above him. Her own face held a thoughtful expression as she led the way noiselessly back across the slippery sand.

* * *

Hawk had already scheduled regular check ins with his command team, Dusty, Flint and Beach Head, before they had left the Pitt. With the majority of the Joes and Green Shirts participating in the training, if something came up, the General wanted to be able to reach them instantly. Though a participant and not a leader, he had also requested that Lady Jaye, being an Intel officer, attend this first meeting.

"Hawk, we're all here now… ," Flint informed him as Lady Jaye and Dusty pushed the tent flap aside and stepped inside, "Lady Jaye and Dusty have just arrived."

He was speaking into the special com unit Mainframe had developed. It allowed for instant private access between Hawk at the Pitt and the Desert Camp Command team.

Flint and Beach Head were seated on one side of the small table they used for conferences. The late arriving Lady Jaye and Dusty quickly took the empty seats on the other side. They had gathered in the command tent, under the dim lighting powered by a small generator.

Beach Head, frowning, pointed to his watch and mouthed, "yer late."

Lady Jaye bit back a retort and directed her voice sweetly toward the com, "Sorry we're late, Sir…It was my fault. It took me longer than I expected to locate Dusty."

What she had said was true. She had been trudging around for over an hour before finding him, and then ended up hiking an additional twenty minutes back to camp.

"That's fine, Lady Jaye," the General quickly brushed aside her apology, "Our meeting was moved up on short notice. So, tell me, how was your first day? Is everything going well for you?"

"Just fine," she relaxed and smiled, "Dusty's doing a great job and I'm already learning a lot."

"As I expected," he chuckled.

"I had no idea there was so much to learn," she laughed lightly.

"Well, that's why Dusty's in charge. He's the expert when it comes to the desert."

"That he is, Sir," she reached over and squeezed Dusty's arm.

Dusty shifted in his chair uncomfortably, his face breaking into an embarrassed grin.

"So, what's the next item of business?," the General addressed his question toward Flint and Beach Head.

"Camp is up and fully operational," Flint was quick to inform him.

"Good…good."

"Helicopter pad is also ready," Beach Head added.

"Already?," Hawk said in a pleased tone, "very good indeed."

"The Joes have been working hard, Sir."

Dusty had certainly put the Joes through the paces, getting camp set up despite the blazing sun and intense heat.

The result was that a temporary Joe camp was now in place. The very same they had reported to Hawk. Small tents dotted the sand, several large water tankers were parked to the south, a helicopter landing pad had been prepared. The Joes had levelled and smoothed and packed the sand as best they could. Portable latrines had also been constructed. Showers were not available due to water restrictions, but each Joe was allowed a gallon of water a day for personal hygienic purposes. There was no mess, but in a shaded area, wooden crates held MRE's which served as breakfast, lunch and dinner meals.

"Looks like you three are doing an excellent job running the camp. Keep up the good work."

"Yes, Sir! Thank you, Sir."

"How's everything from your end? Any news of Cobra?," Flint asked.

"Unfortunately…, yes," the General said slowly, "Our British counterparts have just informed me that they are currently monitoring some recent Cobra activity."

"What could Cobra be up to in Britain?," Lady Jaye wondered aloud. The Brits only involved themselves with Cobra when it involved their own soil.

"Well, that's just it, Lady Jaye," he sighed, "Intel reports indicate that Cobra may now be headed toward Vegas."

Lady Jaye's eyes widened, "Las Vegas! But…, why would the Brits be tracking them here?"

Beach Head's and Flint's eyes met in disbelief. Las Vegas wasn't that far from where they were holding their Desert Training.

"Cobra out here? Are they crazy? We have an entire Joe regiment with us!," Beach Head snarled.

"Yeah…Hawk, and we haven't exactly been secret about our presence."

"I know, I know…. It seems unbelievable to me, too, Flint. I'm to meet with their representing agent tomorrow and hopefully find out just that. For the moment, I'm willing to let them handle the situation. I'll let you know if we decide to involve the Joes."

Lady Jaye's forehead wrinkled. She sensed Hawk wasn't being entirely forthcoming. As an Intel Specialist, she was quite aware that something wasn't adding up. He had completely ignored the most obvious question. _Why would the British be following Cobra to the US?_

For the first time, Lady Jaye began feeling the isolation of their desert camp and wished she had access to a computer or her files. But she didn't. She didn't have anything. Her brows knotted together in frustration.

"So you don't want us to do anything, Sir?"

"No, Flint, Not yet. I'll keep you apprised of the situation."

"Okay, Hawk," he grumbled.

"Hawk out."

The Joes cast thoughtful glances toward one another.

* * *

Their second morning began early. The Joes stumbled out of their tents for PT even before the sun had risen. Shivering and bleary eyed, they followed Beach Head on a three mile run across the sand in semi darkness. Now, the early morning sky was changing rapidly from pink to orange to yellow overhead, the day already growing warmer. The Joes were fully awake and talking noisily as they finished cleaning up after their morning meal.

Flint and Beach Head threaded their way carefully through the assembled Joe crowd.

"Morning, guys," Dusty looked up, greeting them amiably. He had just finished his own breakfast.

Flint and Beach responded with nods.

"Ready to start the day?," Flint asked.

"Ready as I'll ever be," he gave a short laugh and rose to his feet, "Day two. Here goes nuthin…," he dropped his empty MRE bag in the nearest waste receptacle and headed for the platform. Then he stood there in silence, waiting until everyone had quieted.

"Good morning, Joes. It looks like another gorgeous day. I hope ya all rested well in those nice tents we provided for ya here in camp. But, don't forget, my job is to prepare ya for out there. Out there…," Dusty swept his arm towards the vast desert and grinned, "you'll have to find or make yer own shelters."

Flint's and Beach Head's lips lifted in identical smirks. They both knew where this lesson was heading. They scanned the immediate area, quickly selecting ideal building spots.

"Shelters are not just important for a place to sleep at night. They're important for a number of other reasons as well. During the hottest part of the day you rest, conserve your body's water…There's very little shade out in the desert, so you'll have to be prepared to make yer own."

"Today, yer gonna practice how to make a shelter with just a few simple supplies; a tarp and a hand shovel. In your survival packs you'll find what you need to get started."

Dusty then proceeded to carefully build his shelter, explaining each step so that it could be repeated or improvised as needed. He made it look easy. When he had finished, he crawled into the shade underneath and poked his head out.

He was smiling in amusement, "This morning's lesson is simple. Once ya get yer shelter made, you can rest. Until then, happy building." He took a long drink from his canteen and then wiped his mouth, "and don't forget to be drinking plenty of water."

"Ya can begin.…," With a parting smile, he slid back into the shade of his shelter and made himself as comfortable as possible.

The Joes dug into their survival packs eagerly and pulled out their own reflective tarps and shovels.

"Piece of cake," Ace said smugly.

"This oughta be easy," Gung Ho muttered confidently, scanning the area.

"You'll have to improvise," Dusty had said, "look around and use what you find in the desert. Choose a good location for your construction site. Don't fight the desert, work with it."

Dusty's philosophy for surviving the desert was that one should not alter the desert to fit individual needs, but instead adapt and become part of the natural ecosystem already in place.

Each Joe immediately set to work. They wandered around, looking for dunes with rocks, for something to build into, something that might be used to construct walls or could be used as weights. It wasn't anywhere near as easy as Dusty had made it look.

Beach Head was the first to select a location and construct a shelter, not surprisingly, but Flint was just a few seconds behind him. The two shared smug grins as they slid into the welcome shade of their tents and pulled out their canteens. Raising them in the air, they pretended to clink them together.

"Cheers," they called.

Flint then turned his amused grin to watch Lady Jaye scampering about.

She had wisely set her eyes on a juniper bush, situated near a rough rock formation, poking out of the sand. But, unfortunately for her, so did Gung Ho. They reached it at the same time.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, the desert heat had quickly risen with it. Under the brightening sun, sweat was already streaming down their flushed faces. They stood arguing about who was going to use the location for several minutes before they finally realised, that with some creativity, they might share be able to share the space. Instantly, each claimed a side of the bush and then began digging in the soft sand. Dusty had instructed them to create a hollowed trench about two feet deep.

Gung Ho was the quicker in getting his dug and easily fixed and weighted his tarp over it. He grinned triumphantly and winked at Jaye as he crawled inside.

"Awwww, shade….," he spoke loudly. Then he opened his canteen and gulped his water noisily. "This is so nice…"

Lady Jaye growled and set to work faster. She had dug into sand initially like Gung Ho but then had run into rocks on her side almost as soon as she had removed the sand's top layer. It took a lot of extra time and effort to dig around them so they could be removed but she did, and she incorporated them creatively in building a rough wall on one edge above the trench. Then, wiping the sweat and sand from her eyes, she pulled the tarp over the top and weighted it down with the remaining rocks. The result was a shelter tall enough to crouch in and long enough to stretch out. With a satisfied sigh, she slid inside gratefully, away from the hot sun. Inside, as she gulped water thirstily from her canteen, choosing to ignore the amused laughter coming from Gung Ho's shelter.

Each shelter was slightly different and unique in it's own way.

Shipwreck had simply dug a hole in the sand and then covered it with the tarp, weighting the edges with more sand. Then he crawled in carefully, hoping he wouldn't accidentally bury himself. Each small move had him sweating with worry, though, as sand trickled down the sides of his trench, slowly refilling the hollow he had made. It wasn't long before sand was in his boots and down his shirt and in his beard. He was sadly reminded of the time before he became a Joe when he and Flint and Mutt had been caught in a desert storm and nearly buried by a huge wave of sand. He had lost his sand ship on that one. _Great little vessel, too_ , he sighed mournfully.

One by one, the Joes managed to create some form of sun shelter and then crawled inside to the welcome relief from the blazing sun.

Dusty carefully observed their efforts, complimenting some, giving suggestions to others.

They stayed until all the shelters had been constructed and the sun had traveled into the west, the hottest part of the day behind them. Then, Dusty announced that it was time for chow; MRE's were available by the water tank.

"Yeah!" the Joes yelled, popping out of their holes like rabbits. They had worked up appetites digging in the sand and it had been a long time since breakfast. Many of them rushed to the meal crates. Then they spread out in whatever shade they could find.

Flint found a spot next to Lady Jaye. She was wrinkling her nose as she tore open her meal pack. The aroma had wafted up, a mixed jumble of unidentifiable smells.

"I wish MRE's could be made to taste better," she sighed, taking a small, cautious bite and rolling it around on her tongue. "Not even hunger makes one very appetising."

"I know what you mean," he examined the stringy meat and then popped it into his mouth, "but they're not made with taste in mind…they're made to keep bodies moving."

"Well, I suppose they do that," she admitted, but she still couldn't help making a face before taking another bite.

"Well….," he leaned close and whispered into her ear, "If we can get away, I promise to take you out for a real meal."

"Now, that sounds absolutely heavenly, " Lady Jaye's lips curved into a smile. Then she lowered her voice so that only he could hear. "But just how do you propose to do that, Mr. Warrant Officer, Sir?," she asked coyly, her eyes sparkling. She was game if he was.

He gave her a lopsided grin, "Don't worry, I'll think of something."

Her smile faded as she turned her attention back to her colourless meal. She let out a huge sigh and scooped out another bite of her chicken and rice, chewed slowly, and swallowed.

"Hey Dusty, aren't we ever gonna have anything besides these MRE's to eat?," Shipwreck complained as Dusty took a seat next to Flint. "How about some fresh food…You know what the DOD says….a little A-rations…"

"Sorry. Not until you catch it yourself, Sailor," he smirked. "That lesson comes later."

"Ugh…," Shipwreck groaned and set his half eaten MRE to the side. "Seriously, Dusty? You really want to torture us, don't you?"

Lady Jaye leaned into Flint, her face slightly pale, and whispered, "If you take me out of here for that one, I'll love you for ever."

"I thought you already loved me…" his eyes teased.

"Well, let's just say I'll love you even more," she smiled impishly, her cheeks dimpling.

"Hey, you gonna eat that, Wreck?," Gung Ho pointed eagerly to Shipwreck's half eaten meal.

"Be my guest," Shipwreck shrugged and handed him the uneaten portion.

Gung Ho took it and began happily shovelling the remaining food.

Shipwreck watched him in disgust.

"Shipwreck, you know you should be eating all of that," Flint chastised him.

"Yeah, well…I guess I'll live."

"MRE's are better than catching yer own," Alpine mumbled, busily consuming his own meal.

"I know, don't remind me," Shipwreck paled visibly as he watched him eat, "Man, I wish I was on a ship somewhere…anywhere but here…," he sighed and cradled his head in his hands.

"If you were, Wreck, I'd be with you," Lady Jaye gave him small smile.

"Really, Doll?," he turned to her, his face brightening.

"No," Flint spoke firmly.


	4. Chapter 4

_Hope you all had wonderful summers…_

 _Sorry for the delays between postings. It has been a busy summer for me, coming and going and coming again. I'm afraid my writing was also been done in haste during those comings and goings. Apologies. I had to go back to the first three chapters and tighten up some dialogue and fix some continuity issues. Should be ok now._

 _And as for me, the kids are back to school and my life is a little less busy. Thank you for your patience. Hopefully, these next postings will come along more quickly. And as always, thanks again for reading and reviewing._

* * *

 _Oops…I guess I am still stuck in either comings or goings! Thank you Yellow Angela for pointing out some glaring mistakes and rough spots in this last chapter. I went back and reworked it. Hopefully this chapter four will read better._

 _Thank you for your patience._

* * *

"Today we're gonna make fire," Dusty announced.

"Fire?" Ace groaned, wiping away the beads of sweat already forming on his forehead, "Isn't it a little hot for making fire?"

"Yeah…" several Joes near him echoed his complaint.

Dusty sighed, answering with wearied patience, "Normally in the daytime, yes, but as you already know, desert nights get cold, very cold. You have to practice fire making now, so you'll know how to do it when ya need to. Believe me, if yer ever out in the desert at night, you'll appreciate it. Fire will not only keep you warm, but…it will also help protect you from any wild animals you may encounter."

"Wild animals?," a young green shirt near the back gave a nervous squeak.

"Nah, there can't be no wild animals…Ain't nothing can live in the desert," another Green Shirt whispered loudly.

Dusty swallowed another sigh. Some people certainly had wrong ideas about the desert being lifeless. _Well, they would learn_.

"Back to fire making, folks…," he said, drawing their attention to the front. He keyed his password into his laptop, "As ya can probably guess, plant life in the desert is scarce. Because of that, the materials ya find here to make fire will be different from what yer used to." He pressed a few more keys and then projected the images from his computer up to the larger screen, "Keep a look out for these plants. You'll find that they will more readily make fire than others."

"Oh, and make sure to collect dry brush, not the live stuff. Some of those trees and cacti out there are over a hundred years old. Respect them. Green sticks will only produce smoke anyway….and needless frustration."

"Search the dunes, the dry river beds, scrub brushes growing out of rocks, anywhere dead wood and brush may collect. Be forewarned, it may that more time than you anticipate."

The Joes nodded, taking in every word.

"Now, go find yer fire wood," Dusty released them.

"Yes, Sir," the Joes cried, immediately scampering in different directions across the sand.

Dusty watched them leave with a critical eye.

While all had been required to participate in the desert training, what Hawk had specifically requested from Dusty was a list compiled of Joes who excelled. Dusty's eyes continued to follow the Joes as they spread out, keeping mental notes. His attention was first drawn to the eager faces of Footloose, Gung Ho, Stalker, Alpine, Leatherneck, Roadblock, and a little more surprisingly, Lady Jaye.

His gaze continued to sweep over the Joes, taking note of certain individuals. He had to pause as his eyes came to rest on Shipwreck. He saw him sneaking around one of the fire pits left behind by some night guards, collecting overlooked and half burnt pieces of wood. Dusty shook his head. Shipwreck was another one of those who could survive in the desert but he did it by relying on cunning and cleverness instead of skill and technique and never did an ounce more of work than what was absolutely necessary. _No_ , Dusty removed his name from his mental list, _definitely not the kind Hawk was seeking_.

Still other Joes fell into the category of "just let me make it through camp." Dusty had already dismissed them.

Thinking it over again, Dusty had to admit he already had his suspicions about who would end up on Hawk's list. The weeding out process was definitely underway.

As he stood on the dune, watching the Joes, the sun became noticeably warmer on his cheeks. _It must be getting close to time_ , he thought, looking up to locate the position of the sun. As he glanced at his watch to confirm, he had to smile. 0850. He'd been right on, as usual. A Team Leader's meeting with Beach Head and Flint was scheduled for that morning. He had just enough time to skedaddle over there before it started.

Cupping this hands over his mouth, he called out loudly, "I'll be back shortly. Keep hunting…Make sure you gather enough."

"You got it, Dusty!"

"Okay…"

"Yes, Sir…,"

He cast one last glance over his shoulder. The Joes were methodically combing the dunes nearby, slowly moving farther and farther away as they continued their search. Occasionally, one would bend down and pull out a new stick, but they were few and far between.

 _Keep looking,_ he silently willed them, _and don't give up._ He knew from experience how much like a treasure hunt it could be. _Happy hunting._

* * *

Lady Jaye brushed the damp hair from her eyes and smiled. _Yes! Another one_. She reached down to add the dry twig to the others already grasped in her hands. Eying the small bundle critically, she began wondering how much would be enough. _Probably need at least a few more_ , she finally decided and began winding her way between the next pair of dunes.

As she glanced to the right and left, her thoughts drifted like the sand shifting around her. Flint had told her there was to be a leaders meeting that morning. She vaguely wondered what they would be talking about. Try as she might, she couldn't keep her mind from thoughts of Cobra. It was odd, playing the role of a grunt rather than a leader, but with some effort, she had managed to swallow her pride. It still didn't keep her from wanting to bite off Flint's head for his insensitivity, though.

"Leader's Meeting…" he had said bluntly, with an arrogant squaring of his shoulders.

All she could think about at the time was that she was NOT a leader, and she was NOT liking the feeling of being excluded. Nevertheless, she had to admit, now, as she raised her eyes and looked out at the seemingly endless sand, broken only by a few wandering Joes like herself, she really knew very little about the desert. It had been nice getting the impromptu invitation for the first meeting, but she knew she shouldn't be expecting it each time. Hawk would call her in if he needed her. Her job was before her.

She swept her gaze over the empty dunes ahead as she resumed the search. _Just a few more sticks and she would head toward the camp._ Her boots once again began leaving indentions in the sand behind her.

Flint found her on the flats later, just as Dusty had suggested, squatting beside a small fire pit. Slightly breathless from hurrying across the sand, he stood quietly at a distance and watched.

Lady Jaye had made a small pile of shavings and was striking rocks together to make sparks. So focused was she on what she was doing she had not even noticed his presence. He broke into a grin when she muttered angrily to herself and sat up, pushing her sweaty hair from her eyes with an impatient gesture and then bent down again, striking the stones together once again.

This time a spark landed and caught and began to send up a fragile wisp of smoke. Her face broke into an eager smile and she leaned in closer…blowing gently. The smoke erupted into a small, flickering flame. She added more shavings, patiently, pinch by small pinch as it slowly grew in strength. When she had finally decided the flame had become large enough, she began adding some twigs, the anxiety in her face melting as they caught and hot flames crawled up their sides.

Flint decided to use that moment to approach.

"Lady Jaye, we've got an assignment," he announced.

"What!," she looked up at him with a frown, squinting against the bright sun. Then her brown eyes traveled slowly from her tiny fire and to the several small sticks clutched in her hand in disbelief, "Right now?"

"Yes," he smothered his smile, "We need to take a V.A.M.P. out to Fort Carson for repairs."

Her eyes narrowed as she fed a few more twigs to her slowly growing fire. "Seriously?" she asked again, an edge to her voice.

"Yes," He lowered his voice, suddenly aware of the other Joes watching them curiously. "I, uh, was thinking we could enjoy a meal out while we're gone," he whispered.

Lady Jaye rocked back on her heels and looked up at him in slow comprehension, "A real meal?"

"Yeah," his eyes twinkled, "So…, what do you think?"

She glanced from her fire to his face, "Are you kidding? Yes!" her eyes sparkled to life as she jumped up and gave him a quick hug. "Just give me one second," she quickly stamped out her fire. "There."

They both watched as the last of the smoke disappeared in the light breeze.

"Never leave a fire burning," she winked.

"You ready?"

"I am, now. So, where are we going?," she asked eagerly.

Flint gave her a lopsided grin and shook his finger, "Oh no. That's a surprise." Dusty had mentioned a great little steak place just outside of Denver. He had a feeling Jaye would love it.

He looked down as his own stomach suddenly rumbled. Come to think of it, he was looking forward to eating something besides MRE's himself. Steak and maybe a little something green, he thought dreamily.

"Come on, Flint! What are you waiting for?"

"I'm coming, Jaye…," he laughed.

The drive out to Fort Carson was nerve wracking, but uneventful. Flint had insisted on driving the damaged vehicle and so took the lead, secretly praying the entire time that it would make it. He had one eye on the dash board indicators and one one the road the whole way, with Lady Jaye following cautiously behind. By the time they finally arrived at the base and pulled up to the guard on duty, more than two hours later, Flint was more than ready to turn the vehicle over to the base mechanics.

The MP's eyes glanced at their badges and then widened as he looked from Flint to Lady Jaye, "You're GI Joe?"

"Yeah, we've got a V.A.M.P here that needs some repairs."

"Does the motor pool know you're coming?"

"I've got the requisition papers right here," Flint handed them over.

The guard flipped through through papers. "Ok, well it looks in order. Their garage is down that way," he pointed, "first right, large building at the end."

"Thanks…" Flint put the V.A.M.P. in gear and tapped the accelerator. Lady Jaye flashed a smile toward the MP and then followed.

They found the motor pool easily, right where the guard had said. It didn't take long before they dropped off the V.A.M.P, signed the requisition orders, and Flint was able to slide into the seat next to Lady Jaye. He sighed gratefully.

"Where to now, Flint?" she asked, her face bright.

"Head back to the highway, we'll exit at 34."

"Ok," She quickly manoeuvred the V.A.M.P. out onto the open road. Once back on the highway, she tapped the accelerator and the engine roared to life. The wind rushed past them, blowing and lifting their hair in all directions.

"Hey, slow down, Jaye," Flint yelled, clinging to the frame, "We don't want to get a ticket."

"Sorry…" she laughed, slowing down only slightly. She couldn't help it, she was hungry.

They finally pulled into the parking lot at the restaurant. It was a quaint little place, with walls of smoke blackened wood. The tables and chairs, scattered around the main dining room, were also made of rustic wood.

"Take a seat anywhere," the waitress smiled as she walked by, carefully balancing several plates, "I'll be right with you."

The smells from the plates lingered behind after she had passed. Flint and Lady Jaye found their mouths watering.

"Shall we?" Flint offered his arm.

"Certainly," she laughed lightly, looping her arm through his. They chose a small private table by a window and Flint went all out, pulling out a chair for Lady Jaye before seating himself. It didn't matter that they were both wearing dusty uniforms or sunburnt; their faces were bright with happiness.

"Menu?"

"Why thank you, Flint."

"You're welcome, Lady Jaye."

After looking for a just a few minutes, they both ended up ordering steaks.

"So Lady Jaye, what do you think?" Flint had leaned back in his chair was was watching her carefully, a smile creasing the corners of his lips.

"Well," she said slowly, gazing into his warm eyes, "It's small and rustic and quaint and …and absolutely perfect," she smiled and took a sip of her water and then placed the glass back on the table.

He reached across the table to take her hand.

"So, how'd you find out about this place?" she asked, lacing her fingers through his, enjoying the fact that they were alone.

"Dusty recommended it."

"It was a good choice."

"I think so, too."

The waitress came and placed their orders on the table. "Here you are…two steaks. Enjoy your meals."

"Thank you, ma'am."

Flint gave Jaye's hand a quick squeeze before releasing her.

"Looks delicious."

"Oh, yeah."

"Bon appetite."

Lady Jaye took a small bite of her tenderloin and smiled, a look of pure contentment crossed her face.

"Mmmm…" she murmured happily.

"I take it you're pleased," Flint chuckled in amusement as he watched her.

"Oh yeah,…..very pleased," she flashed him a bright smile, "It's perfect. I still can't believe you made this happen."

She happily took a bite of her salad.

"I told you I'd figure something out," he grinned.

"I remember," her eyes danced teasingly, "I love you forever for this, you know."

"I thought you already lov…"

She stopped him, placing a finger lightly to his lips. "Then, forever… and a day…," she grinned as she leaned across the table and kissed him, "Thank you."

He laughed, pulling her against him and kissing her back, "You're more than welcome, Lady Jaye."

Listening to her delighted laughter as he held her tightly in his arms, Flint decided that If he had one wish, it would be that he'd never have to let go.


	5. Chapter 5

_Kudos to Skymaster23 who brilliantly guessed the episode that inspired this story._

 _Sorry about the original choppiness of chapter four. I did some revising and re-editing. Please let me know if there are still rough spots. I'm just a writer trying to get better at writing, sometimes what I try works, sometimes it doesn't. Thank you for you patience._

 _Personal note on this chapter: Back when I was in college, I was lucky enough to be able to go camping and day hiking at Joshua Tree National Park several times. This chapter was inspired by some of those real life experiences. (Yes, I really did see Kangaroo Rats!) And now, on to the next chapter._

 _As always, I appreciate all your reads and reviews. Feel free to critique, good or bad, it helps me improve._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own GI Joe…or the characters…so sad…_

* * *

Flint glanced at his watch and growled impatiently, "Where is he?"

"He still has a few more minutes, Flint," Beach Head muttered, watching him pace back and forth, "Sit down. Yer making me jumpy."

Flint shot him a black glare. Then, in two long strides, he crossed the tent and dropped heavily into his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. Seconds later, he began drumming his fingers.

Beach Head smirked under his balaclava as he watched him, "Yer still fidgeting, Flint."

Flint's jaw clenched. He was just about to make a snarky return comment when Dusty flung the tent door to the side and quickly stepped inside.

"Am I late?" he asked breathlessly.

It seemed between teaching lessons and attending meetings he was always either coming or going, and never had a minute to himself. He had to admit he was beginning to look forward to returning the Pitt, and going back to being just a normal Joe.

"No, ya got about a minute or two to spare," Beach Head drawled. "Flint, here, was about to go A.W.O.L. looking for you, though.

"I made it, then," Dusty exhaled, sliding into his seat at the table.

"Just so you're here," Flint muttered, looking somewhat relieved. "Hawk specifically asked for all three of us to be present for today's meeting. We don't want him to have to wait…"

Dusty looked over at him with embarrassment, "No, and again, sorry about last time. Ya know, I never asked Lady Jaye to take responsibility," he said quietly.

"I know," Flint muttered. _Lady Jaye was just like that._

Dusty accepted his acknowledgement with a small smile. Then he glanced at his watch and sighed, "I really hate cutting it so close. Next time we have a meeting planned, I think I'll just have Gung Ho and Road Block chase the Green Shirts through the training course. Might make 'em move faster…whip 'em into shape, too," his lips slowly curved into a grin.

A smile tugged on the corners of Flint's mouth, too. He could just visualise it, Roadblock and Gung Ho, herding a group of terrified Green Shirts through the course.

"Dusty, I'd swear ya was having too much fun out here," Beach Head accused, looking at him sharply from under his brows.

Dusty's eyes widened innocently as he tried keep a straight face and failed, "Who? Little 'ol me? Naaah…." he ended with a laugh, "Now, what makes ya say that?"

Beach Head drawled sarcastically, "Oh, I don't know…maybe it's because ya seem to be enjoying torturing all those Green Shirts a little too much."

Dusty rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically, "It's called training…not torturing, Beach Head."

"Whatever."

"He's done less torturing than you," Flint smirked, "Admit it, Beach Head. You've managed to terrorise each and every one of those Green Shirts since we've been here, and you've loved every minute of it."

"Can't say I haven't been enjoying myself," he grinned wickedly.

"That's what I thought."

"Camp Desert, this is Hawk speaking."

The three Joes automatically jumped to attention, "General Hawk, Sir!"

"At ease, men," the General chuckled softly. It always amused him when his soldiers saluted him over the com, "Is everyone there?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. Have a seat, boys, and let's get started," his voice grew business-like, all traces of humour gone.

The chairs creaked as the Joes resumed their seats around the conference table.

"Some new information has just come to light that may directly involve you. As you know, I've already been contacted by the British Counter-terrorist team about some recent Cobra activity they've been tracking. Since then, I've had Scarlet closely monitoring those Cobra movements. She's been able to confirm the presence of Dr. Mindbender in your area."

Flint and Beach Head nodded. The news was no surprise. They'd been expecting as much.

"However, despite their continued assurances," Hawk continued grimly, "I have every reason to believe that Cobra may have bigger plans than what the British are letting on. Scarlett has also discovered a recent increase in biker gang criminal activity just outside of Las Vegas. There've been multiple reports of theft and property damage. A couple of the descriptions sound too much like Thrasher and Zandar to be easily dismissed. It may be that the Dreadnoks are joining Mindbender's little party."

"Some party," Dusty growled softly, grinding a fist into his hand, "They better not try crashing my training or I'll sock 'em good."

Beach Head gave Dusty quick appraising glance. This wasn't the first time during this training that Dusty had surprised him. There was a lot more going on inside that seemingly calm and easy going exterior than one would guess.

"If it is them, Zartan and the rest of the Dread Heads won't be too far behind," Flint said slowly, thinking out loud, "How long ago was that sighting, Sir?"

"About a week."

"Then, that's too close to be a coincidence," he surmised.

"I agree, Flint. And it gets worse. At the risk of saying too much," he paused and then ploughed ahead recklessly, "Scarlett also uncovered a recent large money exchange between Cobra and a British Terrorist group known for dealing chemical and biological weapons."

"And you think they're both related?"

"It fits recent patterns within Cobra."

Again, Flint had to nod in agreement.

"So now, what, Hawk?," Beach Head's brown eyes hardened.

The General took a deep breath. His voice remained calm, despite the anger and frustration simmering just underneath, "Nothing."

"Nothing!," three voices cried in disbelief.

"The British insist they have the situation under control…they have their own plans already in motion… and until they request help, we can't do a thing."

"But Cobra's on American soil!"

"And my hands are tied…," he gritted his teeth, "…for now. I can only ask the three of you to be ready to lead the Joe team in assist, or even engagement, the moment the situation changes. And Dusty?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"This may very well mean a desert confrontation, considering the location. I want you to step up the desert combat training for the Joes, including the Green Shirts. I need them to be ready on short notice."

"No problem, Sir."

"I'm afraid that's really all I can tell you," he said bitterly. "I guess don't need to remind you to keep this information to yourselves."

"No, Sir, you don't."

"And we'll make sure the Joes are ready," Flint said firmly.

"Good men. I know I can count on you. Hawk out."

"Yo Joe."

* * *

Dusty lay in the dark, staring at the nylon ceiling of his tent. He pressed the illumination button on his wristwatch and then sighed as he read the dial. 1140. Only ten minutes since the last time he checked. He stared at the ceiling again. Thoughts and snippets of conversation played over and over in his mind.

 _Just what was Cobra up to?_ Nothing good he was certain. _And what about the British? Why were they involved?_ He didn't know. _And the Joes, what would their part be in all this? Would there be a desert confrontation with Cobra? Could he get them ready in time?_

Doubt chipped away at his confidence. He tossed and turned. He couldn't sleep. He finally gave up and wriggled his way out his sleeping bag. After lacing up his boots, he grabbed a canteen and his combat knife and slipped out noiselessly into the inky darkness. Maybe a walk would help clear his head.

Dusty headed straight out into the desert, past the rows of tents filled with sleeping Joes, past the dark, motionless shadows of Joe vehicles, past the Joes guarding the perimeter.

Knowing intuitively where the guards were located, Dusty managed to avoid confrontation and slipped past unseen. He didn't feel like explaining where he was going or why. He just needed to be alone, to think, to be in a place of silence, and the dunes, as always, were beckoning.

This was the first time Dusty had been given extensive leadership of the Joes. Sure, he'd led small teams on multiple occasions, but he'd never been responsible for all the Joes.

The soft sand muffled Dusty's steps as he followed a path lit by the moon. The cold night cleared his head. Dusty felt the release of tension in his body. His muscles loosened and his movements became fluid, easy, and light.

The desert called to him, and he kept walking. He had no fears of becoming lost. He had an uncanny sense of direction in the desert, especially at night, when his senses probably rivalled even that of Snake Eyes. The stars, the wind, the position of the moon: all told him where he was; a subconscious awareness of time passing told him how far he'd gone.

He finally came to an area of rock formations jutting out of the sand with large boulders scattered about haphazardly, worn smooth by countless years of wind and sand scouring their sides. They weren't especially large or tall, but they were solid and hard amidst the seemingly endless soft sand.

Dusty climbed up on one of the smaller boulders and sat down, wrapping his arms loosely around his knees. Above him, the stars teased and winked, but he was not out here for stargazing. He sat still, unmoving, listening, letting his thoughts drift. In the dark and quiet, his senses were sharp and alert. He caught the soft smell of a delicate desert blossom, felt a stray night breeze touch his cheek, and then hurry past; he heard a soft rustling of tiny feet in the sand.

Well aware of the dangers of the desert, Dusty tensed and peered into the darkness, trying to locate the source of the sound. But, at the appearance of three Kangaroo Rats, he relaxed and smiled.

The small rodents came hopping and scurrying from between two rocks, their long tails twitching behind them. They had round, black eyes that shone brightly in the darkness and overly large ears that nervously twisted and turned in all directions. They darted to and fro, in and out among the fallen boulders, stopping only for a few seconds to dig in the sand with tiny hands for seeds which they stuffed into the pouches in their cheeks. Then, they resumed their search, darting again with little scampering starts and stops until they smelled another seed hidden beneath the sand.

Dusty, for his part, tried to be silent, hardly daring to breathe. He watched their antics with amusement.

Suddenly, all three froze at the same time and rose upright their hind feet, noses and whiskers twitching in the air nervously. For the moment, the seeds were forgotten. They stamped their feet several times in warning but whatever was bothering them was not impressed. They quickly gave up and scurried away, heading for the safety of their burrows.

Dusty was wondering what could have startled them when he caught a glimpse of a larger shadow padding slowly between the rocks. He could just hear the heavy fall of it's feet, the snuffling breaths. He made out the silhouette of a large ear, and when it moved and he glimpsed a long snout.

 _Coyote._

Dusty watched it lower his nose, searching the ground for the scent trail the rats had left behind.

 _So, that's what had frightened the Kangaroo Rats._

Then, the coyote raised his nose again and sniffed the air. His thick coat ruffled in the light breeze. He slowly and deliberately turned his head and looked at Dusty, unafraid, his eyes shining as they reflected moonlight and starlight. His tongue was lolled to the side, and Dusty saw his sharp white teeth gleaming. He gave a small yip and with a flash of his tail, he was gone, vanishing into the black night.

Dusty slowly let out the breath he had been holding.

Dusty had always been partial to the desert and as a kid had dreamed of going to college and studying to become a desert naturalist. But, when his mother fell sick while he was still in high school, and he needed a job to help pay the bills, he gave up his dreams for college and learned how to repair refrigerators. As with everything else he put his mind and hands to, Dusty learned the trade well. The job was practical, well paying, and in demand; the money he earned covered their most basic needs. Dusty never regretted his decision. And later, when he enlisted, it proved to be a skill that sat him apart, a useful skill that lent itself to so many other things.

Once In the army, Dusty worked hard and excelled in nearly everything he was taught. His CO's ran him through all kinds of trainings, preparing him on every level. They envisioned a bright future for him.

So, it was no surprise when Dusty received the prestigious invitation to join GI Joe, the elite counter-terrorist group, or that he accepted.

Even with the different paths his life took, and the successes he enjoyed, Dusty never lost his original love for the desert or it's creatures. It remained at the core of who he was. And it wasn't until becoming the Joe's Desert Specialist, when he had a chance to put together all his skills and loves, that Dusty was finally, totally and completely, himself.

Looking back, he had to smile; becoming a Joe had been the best thing that ever happened to him.

Dusty's thoughts drifted from the imminent threat of Cobra, to General Hawk's request for training the Joes he had left back in camp. _Could he get them ready?_

In his mind's eye he saw the desert: the sun bleached dunes, the wind shaped boulders, the dry riverbeds, and finally the three small Kangaroos Rats who made a life in this harsh environment... and thrived.

 _...and thrived._ The words resonated within him.

Slowly, his doubts disappeared into the night, replaced by a new confidence.

 _The Joes would be ready._

Already, the modified plans were beginning to form. Tomorrow they would search for water. The next day, they would go to the firing range. The schedule formed rapidly in his head, Dusty picking and choosing which lessons were more pertinent and moving less important ones to later, if there was still time. Still others he eliminated completely. It happened in a blur of thoughts, a blur of images, a jumble of plans and ideas and then, just like that, it was finished.

Dusty felt a sudden and great weariness come upon him, as though he had been poured out and left empty, the kind of weariness that comes only with the completion of some great and involved project. But, he had to smile. He had a plan of action, a plan that would satisfy Hawk's request. He knew, now, what he needed to do. _He would thrive. They would all thrive._ He would begin tomorrow.

 _And If those snakes were stupid enough to try something, the Joes would be ready for them._

It was time for sleep. He slipped off his rock and landed in the sand with a heavy thud. His limbs felt dull and heavy. He turned his face toward the location of camp and began, with tired steps, the long trek back.

The guards had already changed over by the time Dusty returned, staggering slightly from weariness.

Footloose was on duty, having drawn the second shift. He hadn't minded, even if it did mean broken sleep. He liked the almost cosmic feeling of the mid tween hours, when the whole universe seemed to be peacefully slumbering.

His alert eyes scanned the darkness as he stood at his post, his rifle hung loosely over his shoulder. To a casual observer, he might have appeared sloppy or lacking in discipline, but to those who knew him well, he was anything but.

He heard Dusty's stumbling footsteps even before he saw him.

"Who's there?" his rifle was instantly pointed into the darkness, "Show yourself, man."

"Don't shoot, Footloose. It's just me," Dusty quickly stepped into the light, hands up in surrender.

"Dusty.., dude…," Footloose said with mild surprise, "Like, what are you doing out there? I almost put a bullet through you, man," He slowly lowered his rifle.

"Had some trouble sleeping… just thought I'd take a walk," Dusty shrugged.

Footloose nodded slowly, accepting Dusty's explanation without question. There were times when the need came upon him, too, and he just had to hit the beach and catch some waves. It didn't matter to him that Dusty was a dude of the desert instead of a surfer. Dusty had just needed to go scale some dunes and so he did. In Footloose's universe, sand or waves, it was all the same thing.

"So, you're like, heading back to your tent, now?"

"Yeah, getting pretty sleepy," Dusty quickly stifled a yawn.

"Ok, well, 'night, Dusty. Sweet dreams."

"Good night, Footloose. See ya tomorrow."

"See ya tomorrow, man."

As Dusty threaded his way through the camp, trying to keep his footfalls as light as possible to avoid any other unexpected encounters, he heard a sudden frantic rustling coming from inside one of the tents. He stopped and froze. Suddenly, a zipper was yanked down roughly and a mop of brown hair poked out, followed by a boot unceremoniously turned upside down. A soft thump and a small, hairy creature unwound it's eight legs and crawled away, indignantly.

Lady Jaye looked up and saw the outline of Dusty against the bright moon. She pushed the unruly mess of hair out of her eyes and squinted to see who it was.

"Dusty…" she mumbled, her eyes and voice still heavy with asleep, "figures.…"

She gave an irritated huff and then crawled back into her tent, still mumbling to herself. Very carefully, she zipped the tent back up, making sure the tarantula would not make a repeat visit.

Dusty could just make out some of her words between the curses and mutterings. He had to smile.

"eight legged…hairy…"

"… NOT good bedmates…"

"Dusty's… desert…grrr…"

And then there was some more rustling and her tent grew silent and still.

Dusty tiptoed past, on his way to his own tent. He circled several and then paused as he heard hushed whispers and the slow draw of yet another, tent zipper.

 _Doesn't anyone sleep around here?,_ he grumbled tiredly.

He quickly side stepped into the shadows, just out of sight. Shortly after, two shapes crawled out of the tent to his left. When they stood, Dusty recognised the familiar outlines of Shipwreck and Ace. Dusty watched them unnoticed. They tiptoed to their own nearby tents, still arguing softly with one another. He could have sworn he heard the mention of Lady Jaye's name.

"I wonder…," he glanced suspiciously back toward Lady Jaye's tent.

Once they had crawled in and zipped up their tents, Dusty continued his way toward his own tent. _No more delays,_ he pleaded silently into the darkness. A yawn nearly split his head in two. _Enough was enough._ He'd figure out what those two had been up to later. In the morning. After he got some sleep. And right now, he needed to get some sleep. Badly.

He unzipped his own tent and crawled in. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.


	6. Chapter 6

_Credit being given where credit is due_ _: Quick Kick imitates Gyp Watson from the movie __Destiny Rides again_ _, 1939 - Gyp Watson spoke the line…"There's gold in them, thar hills." Quick Kick just modified it slightly to "green" instead of "gold."_

 _Quick Kick also quotes John Wayne, an American actor and filmmaker. John Wayne first used "pilgrim" in the 1962 film T_ _he Man Who Shot Liberty Valance._

 _As always, Thank you for reading._

 _Usual Disclaimer: I don't own GI Joe._

* * *

Under normal circumstances, Lady Jaye enjoyed the sun. She was one of those fortunate ones who rarely burned and instead sported that enviable, all year long, golden summer tan. Unfortunately, however, her current circumstances were anything but "normal" and even Lady Jaye was finding this desert sun unlike any sun she had ever had to deal with before.

She reached up gingerly to touch her nose and winced… _man, that was going to peel_. Her frown deepened as she gently explored the rest of her red, tender face; her cheeks, her forehead, her chin, and sighed. _A little more sun and they'd be peeling, too._ Her fingertips brushed the tops of her ears in her exploration and she winced again. Awww _great, even my ears!_ She was definitely experiencing some sympathy feelings for Scarlett, her very fair, red headed roommate who burned by merely just thinking about being in the sun.

Peering into her small, hand held mirror, she squinted her brown eyes and then liberally slathered on sunscreen, something she rarely had to do. Although the damage had already been done, she could at least try to keep it to a minimum. Scarlett had handed the bottle to her as a parting gift, and Lady Jaye had accepted it as a kind of joke. She wasn't laughing now. She hesitated a moment and then pocketed the bottle of sunblock. Might want to put more on later, she mused.

Lady Jaye had to admit Dusty's desert training had been quite challenging so far, and that's saying a lot for one who had already been trained in multiple areas. Why, she'd even successfully completed Zero G training with Ace once for a mission to space! But this desert training was unlike any of her previous trainings. It was more extreme in every possible way. It was hotter, colder, and drier and there were hidden dangers everywhere. She was daily being challenged both physically and mentally. It seemed there was never a moment's rest. In the desert, one had to be on guard constantly, always fully aware of the situation. At any given moment, you had to know the placement of the sun in the sky, the level of water in your canteen, your location in relation to camp, the landscape around you, besides keeping a constant vigilance for the many dangerous creatures who were often found hiding in the shadows and beneath stones. A lapse in attention could mean your life.

And then, just as she felt she was making a little headway and gaining some confidence, Dusty decided to intensify the training. It was so sudden and unexpected that she immediately became suspicious of external influences. She tried to ask him directly but he either didn't hear, or pretended not to, because he never gave a reason and she was left wondering as he sent her scrambling back through the sand for more drills.

Later, she had tried to get information out of Flint, but even he had been tight lipped with her, despite using all her charms.

Flint had, of course, known what she was up to from the very beginning, and put up a resistance. She had finally had to give up, hanging her head in defeat, her bottom lip protruding in a pout that Flint found nearly irresistible. He gently pulled her to him and kissed her, leaving them both breathless. Then burying his nose in her hair, he mumbled an apology, "I'm sorry, Jaye. You know I am."

She cuddled up against his chest, taking comfort from the sound of his heart in her ear. She knew from experience what that meant, that he was under orders from Hawk. Must be something to do with the British, she surmised. Just more secrets they couldn't talk about. She sighed heavily.

"I know," she trailed a finger down his chest, "It's just that I…"

"I know," he chuckled, grabbing her hand.

She smiled up at him sheepishly. He did know her. Too well, it seemed at times. Jaye was one of those who hated having secrets kept from her. It was part of what made her such a good Intel; she had become a very good snoop.

"At least promise me you'll be a good girl," he tapped the end of her nose with his finger.

"I promise," she nodded, crossing her fingers behind her back.

Flint recognized the gleam in her eyes instantly and just shook his head. He knew he was fighting a losing battle.

"Jaye…," he sighed, wrapping his arms tightly around her once again, "What am I going to do with you?"

Her giggles were muffled against his broad chest.

* * *

Dusty, true to his resolve, instructed the Joes on how to find water, next.

"Usually, what water you find in the desert will be hidden," he said matter of factly, "It won't be easy to find, but it's there, if you know where to look, and have eyes to see what is unseen."

The Joes stifled yawns, rubbing the sleep from their eyes. It was early and the sun had not yet risen.

"My best advice to you is to always be aware of your surroundings. You can learn to locate water through areas of green vegetation, presence of birds and insects, or converging animal trails."

"Sometimes, if you can get up higher and look around, you can see reflections, or maybe even a smudge of green from Cottonwoods and Willow trees."

Lady Jaye and the rest of the Joes shook the remaining sleep from their heads as they studied the photos he flashed onto the screen, Willows and Cottonwoods and the Desert Fan Palm.

"These trees can't grow without a water table that is very near or on the surface. So if you find them, you're in luck. They will either have water on the surface in the form of a spring, a water hole nearby or, at the very least, you can dig a hole down to the roots underneath, and it will fill up with water."

"Also keep yer eyes open for a dry river bed, or areas of lower elevation where run off might collect. Once there, look for any traces of water, again, any lower spots where water might have collected or would have likely stayed for the longest time. If you find a low spot and it looks like the sand is moist, or you spot moisture around rocks, start digging down. There's a good chance you'll find water."

"By the way, anything ya might have have heard about Solar Stills, forget it, it won't work in the desert. There's not enough moisture in the air to make it worth the effort. You'd lose more moisture digging the hole than you'd get out of it. Getting water out of cactus doesn't work, either. That's just something that appears in old cowboy movies. You don't get 'water' from cactus, all you get is a stomachache and vomiting. Don't try it. To get water in the desert, there's only one way, ya have to find it."

"And, that's all there is to it," he broke into a huge grin, "Team assignments are posted outside the supply tent. Happy water hunting."

The noise swelled as Joes pressed eagerly to the front, groups met and formed and broke off. When Lady Jaye finally had a glimpse of the postings, she discovered she had been assigned to a team with Bazooka, Alpine and Quick Kick.

"Hey, Lady Jaye, Over here!" Alpine, yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth. Bazooka and Quick Kick were already standing beside him. All three were grinning, jumping up and down and waving their hands in the air to get her attention.

"Why do I always seem to get teamed up with these guys?," she pondered momentarily. Then she had to choke back a sudden laugh as she heard Shipwreck enthusiastically trying out his latest jokes on Spirit. It could be worse, she decided, smiling and shaking her head; at least Shipwreck had been assigned to a different team.

Dusty had selected each team with careful thought and planning, placing at least one of the stronger performing Joes on each. He guessed that those Joes would naturally become group leaders. He wanted to see how they handled being out in the desert without a guide, how they used the various skills of their team members and how they utilised what they had already learned from the training. He, meanwhile, would be taking copious notes for his report to Hawk.

As a final parting gift, Dusty gave each group a compass, to find their way back, and a tracer, in case they couldn't.

The Joe teams grabbed their gear and fanned out in different directions, separating and spreading out into the desert. It would be hot, but Dusty had planned it well, sending them out early in the day, shortly after the sun had risen. The Joes would carry with them materials for building sun shades in case they were needed. Each person would also be carrying a full canteen as well as an empty one. They were assigned to find water and then bring back proof, one full canteen. Instructions were to be back by nightfall.

Keeping the sun on their left shoulders, Lady Jaye's team wandered south, feet sinking and sliding in the loose sand with each step. Every once in a while, Alpine or Quick Kick would scale a dune to get a better view. In this manner, it wasn't long before they had already walked for over an hour.

"See anything Quick Kick?" Lady Jaye yelled up at him after he had easily scaled another dune.

He scanned the horizon carefully and then broke into a wide grin. "Thattaway, guys," he pointed excitedly. Then he did an imitation of Gyp Watson, "There's green in them, thar hills."

He slid down the dune and then rejoined them, the dust leaving a small trail behind him which resettled quickly.

"How far away do you think it is?," Lady Jaye asked, squinting in the direction he had pointed, but seeing nothing.

"Not too far. Probably just a couple 2 or 3 miles."

Bazooka let out a groan and Alpine turned to him and grinned.

"It'll be alright, Zook 'ol Buddy. We'll be there before you know it."

Lady Jaye wiped the sweat from her forehead before pulling out her canteen and taking a long drink. The others followed her example, pulling out their own canteens. When she had drunk enough, she capped it and hung it back over her shoulder. She looked up at the sun. They still had a several hours before it hit it's peak, and the hottest part of the day.

"Well, if we're going to get there, we'd better get started," she took the lead, setting a steady pace.

"She's right. Let's go," Quick Kick fell into step beside her.

It took them about 45 minutes of walking, a couple more times of scaling dunes, but they made it, tired and hot, but elated. They found a dry river bed, cracked with stones and sparse dried weeds strewn sparingly along the edges. It looked promising. Remembering what Dusty had told them, they looked for a place in the shade, at the base of one of the Cottonwoods, and began digging a small hollow in between the roots.

Lady Jaye was secretly overjoyed to let Bazooka, who gallantly volunteered, do all the digging. She'd had enough with the building of her sun shelter.

He went at it with gusto.

"I like digging," he said simply, taking the hand shovel and falling to his knees.

While Bazooka was shovelling out the sand, Lady Jaye stood at attention, javelin ready, as she squinted against the bright sun. Her job was to keep an eye open for snakes and scorpions that might be disturbed by their shifting of rocks and sand. Quick Kick and Alpine helped by moving the sand Bazooka had removed away from the hollow so it wouldn't have a chance to slide back inside.

The small hole slowly, but steadily, deepened.

"Wet sand!" Bazooka suddenly announced in excitement, scooping out the now damp handfuls with even greater energy.

"Don't stop. Keep going, Bazooka," they encouraged, leaning in to watch.

He dug down further, and then a bit more, and then the team erupted in excitement, "Woo hoo! Alright!" They celebrated with high fives and hand slaps. The little hollow had begun filling with water.

Lady Jaye squatted beside it and dipped her fingertips into the water. "Hey guys, it's cool," she said in breathless wonder. "Wow, I can't believe we actually did it," her voice lowered to barely a whisper, "We found water."

Quick Kick heard her and patted her on the shoulder, "You bet your life we did, Lady," he grinned.

They each stuck a finger in, murmuring agreement with Jaye. Alpine and Bazooka even tasted it, taking small drinks and then spitting out the unavoidable rocks and sand. Then, they each filled their canteens.

Once they had finished, they stood and looked around uncertainly.

"So, do we stay and build sun shelters now, or go on back?" Lady Jaye addressed the group.

They looked up to the sun. Quick Kick guessed that they still had a couple hours before the hottest part of the day so they unanimously voted to attempt a return to camp, rather than wait it out.

"Alpine, would you do the honours?" Lady Jaye handed him the compass. The wiry mountaineer had, by far, the most navigation experience on their team.

"But of course, Lady Jaye. With pleasure," he smiled broadly.

"Hang on a sec," she fished in her pockets, "Sunscreen?" she offered to the group after squeezing some into her hand.

"Thanks, LJ."

She applied the lotion to her face and neck and ears, at the same time watching with a small smile as the bottle was passed around and the guys slathered it on their own exposed skin. When they finally handed it back, she deftly slipped it into her pocket.

"Ready everyone? Then, let's go."

They followed the compass back to camp, Alpine taking the lead.

"A little more to the North, guys…"

"Ookalee Dokalee, you're the man in charge," Quick Kick grinned, falling into an easy step behind him.

They walked without speaking for a while. Lady Jaye watched Alpine curiously as he read the needle on the compass and then continued walking, glancing only occasionally to the compass to keep them going in the correct direction. Finally, she broke the silence, "Alpine, when'd you first learn how to use a compass?," she asked.

"You really want to know?" he cast a quizzical glance back at Lady Jaye.

"Well, yeah. We've got a long walk back. Why not?"

"Ok. Since you put it that way. It was when I was just a kid. My dad and I used to go hiking almost every weekend."

"Oh? You must have some great stories."

"Sure do," he smiled, "Some of my best memories."

"I'll bet," she nodded, "All that experience comes in handy for desert survival, too, doesn't it?"

"You said it," he grinned. "So far, this desert training has been mostly a piece of cake."

Lady Jaye smiled. "How about you Bazooka? So, what's been the most challenging thing so far for you?"

"The food," he answered quickly.

"I'm with you on that one," she made a face and pressed a hand to her abdomen.

"Funny, Lady Jaye," Bazooka burst out laughing.

"How about you, QK?," Alpine asked.

He adopted a John wayne accent, "Well pilgrim, I guess I'd have to say… the driving."

"Really? I'd never have guessed that," Lady Jaye said in surprise.

His voice became normal and he laughed, "Yeah, It was terrible. The wheels of my V.A.M.P. kept getting stuck in the sand."

He began acting out the scene for them, widening his eyes and glancing back in dismay as he pretended to hold on to a steering wheel. The he started making the whirring noise of tires spinning.

Soon they were all laughing with him.

"And how about you, Lady Jaye?," Quick Kick asked after they had finally calmed. Alpine turned curiously to hear her answer.

"Well, like I told Bazooka, probably the food," she shrugged.

"Really?" Now it was Alpine's turn to disbelieve, "Nothing else?"

"No, unless you count sunburn," she pressed a hand gently to her warm cheeks and then suddenly became suspicious, her eyes narrowing, "Why do you ask?"

"No problems with the snakes?"

"Or spiders?," Bazooka added.

"No…,"

"That's good," Alpine beamed happily, "Really good."

Lady Jaye just caught a wide grin as he turned his head, rubbing his hands togther gleefully.

"Oh, would you look at that, we need to veer a bit more east. This way," he quickly redirected the group.

Lady Jaye followed his back with her eyes, an eyebrow raised quizzically. There was more to that conversation than it appeared.

They returned to camp just as the sun was reaching it's peak. Alpine had done a good job leading and their team had been one of the first to make it back.

Dusty greeted them with a clipboard and a stopwatch. "Hmm…4 hours 54 minutes. Not bad," he muttered as he wrote their time down. Then he checked their canteens, dipping this finger into the water and tasting it. "Excellent. Now grab an MRE and get into some shade. Take a rest. You've all earned it."

"Thank's Dusty," Alpine, Bazooka and Quick Kick made their way quickly toward the mess crates.

"Coming, Lady Jaye?" Alpine called back.

"In a minute."

Lady Jaye watched them go. She was hungry, but MRE's were the last thing she wanted to eat. She unconsciously reached up to touch her red nose and cheeks and sighed.

"Hey Jaye, you alright? That looks mighty painful," Dusty asked in concern, gesturing toward her face.

"Hmmm? Oh…," she turned even redder as she tried to hide her sunburn, "That noticeable, huh?"

"Yeah, it is," he grinned, "I've got something that might help, though." He grabbed his cup and and dumped out a wet lump, offering it to Lady Jaye, "an old desert secret I learned once."

"What's this?" Her eyes widened suspiciously. She'd been finding all kinds of spiders, centipedes and other insects in and around her tent lately.

"Black Tea. It'll help with the sunburn."

"A used tea bag?" she asked, holding it up between her fingers with mild surprise.

"Yup, works every time," he nodded enthusiastically.

"So that's why I always see you drinking tea and then saving your used tea bags," she raised her eyes and stared at him with a new respect.

"Yes, indeed. Just apply the cooled, used teabag to yer sunburn, it'll help take out some of the heat. Very soothing."

"Thanks…Dusty," she cupped it in her hand, "I'll try it."

"You're welcome. Now, make sure ya go eat something," he laughed.

"Yes, Sir," she grinned.

The remaining Joes trickled in over the next few hours, with the last team arriving just before sunset. They had all made it back within the allotted time. No one was lost. Each team successfully found water and made it back to camp without having to use their tracer.

"That's it, Dusty," Flint and Beach Head both stared at their watches as the last team with Spirit, Shipwreck, Gung Ho and Clutch straggled into camp, "Looks like they all made it."

"Sure does, don't it?"

"General Hawk'll be pleased," Beach Head crossed his arms over his chest proudly.

Dusty smiled.

 _The Joes were finally starting to make some progress._


	7. Chapter 7

_The Joes have some fun in the desert. Some win, some lose, and it's up to you to decide who comes out on top._

 _As always, thanks for reading and thanks for reviewing. I hope you enjoy!_

 _Usual disclaimers apply...I still don't own…_

 _Note: The character, Matthew Burke, appeared in the Sunbow episode, The Spy Who Rooked Me. (As if you didn't already know.)_

* * *

"Come," Hawk looked up, slightly annoyed by the interruption. He was reading Dusty's latest report.

Mainframe entered immediately, a mixture of worry and curiosity on his face, "This just arrived, Sir. Looked important."

 _So much for a peaceful afternoon._

Hawk stared at the sealed document that was handed to him, his expression completely unreadable.

"Thank you, Mainframe."

"You're welcome, Sir," he cast one last curious glance behind him before he shut the door.

Once more alone, Hawk studied the large manila envelope in his hands, his eyes narrowed apprehensively as he recognised the official seal of the British Counter-Terrorist Agency. He carefully slid a knife along the edge and then shook out the contents onto his desk. Stamped along the top, in red letters that could not be missed, were the words "Top Secret."

 _So, the British had finally sent their plans for the destruction of the chemical._

 _"_ It's about time," he muttered to himself.

Before Hawk could take a look, a separate sheet of paper fell loosely from the rest. The General picked it up and examined it curiously. It was a duplicate of an official request made by the British Counter-Terrorist Agency for the Joe's assistance in their current mission against Cobra, already signed and approved by the US Department of Defence.

Hawk stared at it, first in disbelief, and then in rapidly increasing anger as he realised the implications.

 _Just what did they think he'd been doing all this time,_ he seethed. _Having tea and scones?_ He'd already offered to send in the Joes multiple times from the start…and would have worked with the British team willingly. But, over and over again, the British Agent in charge had insisted he could handle Cobra without Joe help. _And now, this…Super Agent Burke…had gone over his head, to the Department of Defence, ordering Hawk and his team to assist…Ordering!_

The General quickly skimmed through the plans. Then, creases etched deeply across his forehead, he reread them a second time, more slowly.

His orders were to send four of his best men out with simple instructions and only the barest of information, keeping them in the dark about the true mission going on concurrently. If all went according to plan, Cobra would pursue the Joe team, leaving Agent Burke to safely deliver the weapon to the Rocky Mountain Chemical Arsenal for destruction.

It was worse than he thought.

He slammed the papers onto his desk. The lukewarm coffee in his cup sloshed over the side, his pencils rattled and fell, skittering across his desk. He took no notice.

 _Were they really asking him to do that? To deceive his own Joes, making them decoys without their knowing it? To betray their trust in him?_

He rubbed his forehead. He could just feel the beginnings of a headache coming on.

The orders sat on his desk, teasing him with their harsh whiteness. He glared at them but that was all he could do. They both knew he was powerless. His hands were tied up in bureaucracy and international diplomacy. He, like his men, was just a pawn in an international spy game. He reached for a pen and signed his name in angry strokes, black on white. He had no other choice.

Then, taking a deep breath, he turned toward the com and flipped the switch to "on." It was time to select his Joes.

"Camp Desert, this is General Hawk speaking," his voice sounded strained, even in his own ears.

Flint, on duty, jumped up and turned on the two way speaker to the com. "Flint here. What is it, General?"

"Flint?" Hawk clenched his fists. _They did ask for his 'best'. Well, so be it._

"Yes, Sir."

"I have... an assignment for you. Choose a team of three to accompany you," Hawk couldn't help but scowl even as he said it. He already knew at least one of the three Flint would choose. _Lady Jaye._ So, he was to deceive two of his best men, men who were among the select few who had become more than soldiers, men who had become friends.

"Yes, of course, Sir," Flint blinked in confusion, "What's the assignment?"

General Hawk felt physically sick. For the first time since taking command of GI Joe, he was going to tell a bold faced lie to his Joes.

"I don't have the details, yet. When the arrangements are made, I'll get back to you."

"But Hawk," Flint protested in surprise, "How am I supposed to choose who to take with me if I don't…Wait…" and then his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

 _That a boy, Flint, stay sharp,_ Hawk willed, gritting his teeth. He might not be able to give them details, but that didn't keep him from hoping they'd figure it out on their own.

"Does this have anything to do with the British…?," he growled.

Hawk cut him off abruptly, even as a tight smile lifted the corners of his lips, "I can't tell you anything more, Flint. So, don't ask," he said sharply.

Flint's mouth snapped shut. His eyes darkened. Hawk never spoke to his command leaders like that, never spoke to _him_ like that. "Fine…, Sir….," he spoke in clipped, angry tones.

"I'll send mission details later. Hawk out," his words were heavy, dropping like stones. Hawk turned off the com with a angry flip of the switch.

 _It's a good thing his Joes were the best_ , he growled, clenching his jaws. _They would need the best for this assignment._ Hawk had complete confidence in their abilities, but it didn't make throwing them to the wolves any easier. He only hoped that when it was all over, he would still have their trust, …and their friendship.

What's done is done.

His eyes fell on the report he had been reading earlier. _Dusty, make sure the rest of my Joes are ready, just in case they need you._

He grimaced and pressed his hands to his temples, rubbing circles to ease the pain. His headache was rapidly worsening into a full blown migraine.

* * *

Flint sat darkly, brooding over the conversation he'd just had with the General when a cry was heard from Lady Jaye's tent, followed by an angry yell. Flint promptly forget everything else as he set off running in her direction. As he approached, he had to side step quickly as a javelin came hurling from her tent flap. He eyed it nervously as it planted itself in the sand just inches from his feet, still quivering.

"Jaye?," he called to her cautiously, unwilling to take another step.

Lady Jaye emerged almost immediately, her face flushed, eyes dark, another javelin clutched tightly in her hand.

"Did I get it?," she hissed, looking around wildly.

"Get what?" his eyes narrowed.

"The scorpion, of course," she sputtered in exasperation.

He looked at the javelin sticking out of the sand more closely. Pinned by it's head was indeed, a scorpion. She came up beside him and looked down. Relaxing slightly, she lowered the second javelin she was still holding in her hands.

"I found the thing in my boot," she said shortly, as if that explained everything.

Flint saw the fire still flickering at the edges of her eyes, noticed the slight trembling in her hands and nodded. Then his eyes slowly followed her body downward until they came to rest on her feet. She was standing in the sand, shoeless, wearing only her green army socks.

"Oh, that explains it…," he raised an eyebrow, bringing his dark eyes back up to her face.

Other Joes had hurried in from various parts of the camp to see what all the excitement was about. They arrived just in time to see Lady Jaye standing calmly by a javelin stuck in the sand.

"Hey you two, everything ok?" Dusty had also come running, "I heard a yell."

Lady Jaye flicked an eye toward the javelin still standing proudly in the sand. "Scorpion," she gave an involuntary shudder, "in my boot."

Dusty looked at the impaled scorpion and his eyes widened suddenly, as if he had just remembered something. He smacked himself on the forehead and shook his head slowly from side to side.

"I'm so sorry Lady Jaye," he gave a small laugh, "That was one of those little lessons I forgot. Got so busy with everything else… 'Never forget to shake yer boots before putting them on'," he pressed a hand to his stomach trying to contain his laughter.

"Gee, thanks for that tid-bit, Dusty," she glared, each word dripping with sarcasm, "Your timing is absolutely amazing."

"You're welcome, Lady Jaye," he gasped, wiping away the tears blurring his eyes, "But, really, I am sorry. Hey, you didn't get stung, did ya?" His laughter died in the sudden rise of concern.

"No."

"That's good," he exhaled in relief.

As they were talking, Flint swept his eyes over the curious faces of the gathered crowd, pointing and whispering to one another. He let out a groan. He could already see it, the wild stories of Lady Jaye brandishing her javelin against scorpions, passed among the Joes here at camp…and then again, later back at the Pitt. It was the kind of story that would be told over and over again, might even surpass the guys' current favourite, Cover Girl and her Mauler Meet the Centipede. The corners of his mouth twitched and he turned quickly to hide his amusement.

Dusty, meanwhile, had taken hold of Lady Jaye's javelin, and with a sharp, quick tug, pulled it out of the sand. He carefully plucked the dead scorpion from the end and then handed the javelin back to Lady Jaye.

"Alright if I keep this?," he held up the mangled scorpion carefully between two fingers.

"Yes, of course," she answered in surprise, "But, why do you want it?"

"I'm thinking to use it tomorrow," Dusty said slowly, "I want to do that checking yer boots lesson…Figured it's better late than never," he grinned.

Lady Jaye rolled her eyes and gave him a half smile, "In that case, be my guest."

"Thanks," Dusty carefully wrapped it in a bandanna and then placed it in one of his cargo pockets.

Watching him, Lady Jaye just shook her head.

Alpine arrived at that moment and slipped quietly into the crowd. It wasn't long, though, before his excited voice was suddenly heard rising above the rest.

"What? I won? Yes! Just put it all right here, boys," he pointed eagerly to his empty outstretched hand.

Heads turned in his direction.

"Good Job, Alpine," Bazooka was congratulating him.

The gathered crowd became more and more animated, low voices of disappointment and louder voices of celebration were rising and falling as they engaged in multiple conversations.

Ace and Shipwreck were seen pulling out their wallets and groaning as they counted greenbacks into his hand. Other Joes also began exchanging bills.

"Alpine?" Lady Jaye slowly turned to face him, hands on hips.

He froze.

"What's all this about?," her voice was deadly calm.

A silence fell over the crowd.

"It's just a little bet, Lady Jaye," he grinned nervously. The Joes around him were quick to nod in agreement.

"What kind of little bet, Alpine?" her eyes flashed.

Flint, watching their exchange, looked at Dusty and smiled knowingly. "Now it's my turn. Watch and learn, my friend," and he slowly began counting backwards, "Five, four…"

Dusty glanced at him sideways, a puzzled expression on his face.

"Well, Alpine?," she glared, stamping a foot impatiently.

Alpine paled and swallowed visibly, "We…uh…we wanted to see what desert creature would… would make you lose your cool," he stammered, and looked at the ground.

Lady Jaye's eyes widened, "Is that why I've been finding so many spiders and centipedes around my tent lately?"

Alpine and the Joes crowding around him nodded guiltily.

"Three, two…" Flint continued softly, his smile slowly widening.

"Only Alpine bet on scorpions. He won," Shipwreck informed her with a wicked grin.

Alpine shot him a death glare.

"One." Flint gave a chuckle and crossed his arms over his chest.

"What!," Lady Jaye exploded, "You mean you guys have been running a pool on me? This whole time! To see what would make me 'lose my cool?'," Her chest heaved and her eyes blazed, "Of all the…You should have bet on yourselves!" Lady Jaye growled and then suddenly charged toward them, javelin in hand. "I'll show you how I 'lose my cool!'"

Alpine's eyes became like saucers, "Run!," he yelled, his feet kicking up sand in his haste.

"Hey, ouch…watch where you stick that thing," Shipwreck yelped.

"You all deserve to be skewered…"

"Faster guys, faster!," Alpine yelled.

"Alpine….," Bazooka wailed, calling after him.

"Maybe you'll think twice before making bets on me," she grunted.

"Ouch..watch it, Jaye," Ace cried.

"Or any other Joe female for that matter."

"I'm sorry. We're all sorry. We promise never to do it again. Please just stop sticking us with that thing!," Shipwreck begged.

They disappeared among the tents, between lines of hysterical Joes in audience. The yelps and cries slowly fading.

 _Oh yes, an epic story in the making,_ Flint shook his head, _Jaye was never going to live this one down._

He turned toward Dusty, a wide grin on his face. Dusty looked at him and sighed. He reached deep into his own pocket and pulled a roll of bills. Slowly, he handed them to Flint.

"You know her too well, man," he shook his head sadly.

"Boyfriend's prerogative," Flint said smugly, licking his fingers and counting the money.

Lady Jaye returned soon after Dusty had left, breaths coming in rapid pants and eyes still ablaze.

"Feel better?," Flint asked, one eyebrow raised in a half smirk.

"Yeah," she grinned satisfactorily, "much better." She reached into her tent and pulled out her boots. Then, she sat on the ground and began brushing the loose sand from her socks.

"You took that pretty well," he cast a cautious glance toward her.

"Scarlett and Cover Girl gave me a heads up before I came," she laughed softly, "I knew the guys were up to something. It took me awhile, but I figured it out. I was just waiting for the right moment to get back at them."

"Why does that not surprise me," Flint smiled.

"Maybe now they'll think twice before betting on Joe women," her eyes sparkled with mischief.

Flint chuckled as he grabbed her boots and squatted beside her. Then he turned them upside down, one at a time, and shook them.


	8. Chapter 8

_Direct quotes are italicised. All quotes are taken from the GI Joe Sunbow episode,_ _The Spy Who Rooked Me._

 _As always, a million thanks for reading!_

* * *

"Hey, Dusty, you seen Flint?"

"Yeah. I think he said something about taking care of a Havoc. Why?," Dusty glanced up from his clipboard.

"Hawk just sent the mission details. He's a go."

Dusty just nodded. Like Beach Head and Flint, he'd been expecting the call.

"So besides Lady Jaye," he grinned, rolling his eyes as he said her name, "Who else going with him?"

Beach Head smirked under his balaclava, "He _is_ that predictable, ain't he? Orders were for a team of four. Other than Jaye, though, I don't know that he had anyone else in mind."

"Well, let me know when you find out, so I can cross them off my roster. It's too bad they're gonna miss weapons training, though….," he sighed, chewing on the end of his pen.

"From the stories flying around camp," Beach Head's lips curved slowly into a grin, "I don't think Lady Jaye needed it."

* * *

Flint was on his way to see to the pickup of a Havoc for repairs. He was grumbling and complaining under his breath, practically dragging his feet in the sand beneath him.

"Yesterday it was the Mauler, two days ago a V.A.M.P. Just what is it with the sand and Joe vehicles, anyway? I should have just stayed at my desk in the Pitt if all I'm going to do around here is shuffle paperwork back and forth."

Lady Jaye, walking beside him, lay a hand on his arm in an attempt to soothe him. "It could be worse, you know," she said softly.

"Please tell me how," he glared as they wound their way through various Joe vehicles and headed toward an Armadillo.

Beach Head caught up with them just as they were driving out of the parked vehicle area. He flagged them down and then handed Flint the orders with both Flint's and Lady Jaye's names written on the the top.

" _What's this Beach Head_?," Flint asked irritably, thinking it was more requisition orders.

"Hawk just sent it. It's details for that mission of yers…," He grumbled, "looks like just a _routine escort mission_ to me. Don't know what you were going on so about before."

"Ha! I knew it," Lady Jaye grinned ecstatically, peering over Flint's shoulder at the orders, "A mission! This has something to do with that British situation with Cobra, doesn't it?"

She was reading as quickly as she could, her mouth moving rapidly with silent words.

Flint, who was also scanning the orders, paused in his reading and rubbed his cheek, "This is the mission Hawk was so secretive about?," he muttered, "It doesn't make sense at all," his forehead wrinkled.

 _"_ Hey, it _beats desert survival training,_ though _, don't it_ ," Beach Head looked at him and shrugged.

Lady Jaye blushed and laughed lightly, " _I'll say,_ Beach Head. _No more shaking scorpions out of my boots."_

"I still need a couple more Joes, though," Flint sighed, still deep in thought, "Between the requisitions and the training I haven't had time to come up with anyone, yet."

"Why don't ya just take Dial-Tone and Cross Country? They're out of a ride, anyway."

"Hey, that's a great idea, Beach, thanks," Flint smiled, quickly writing their names on the two empty lines, "Just perfect." He dotted his I's and crossed his T's with a flourish.

He noticed Lady Jaye studying him curiously, and so he gave her a quick lopsided grin. Her face brightened and warmed in the silent exchange.

"Tell Hawk we're on it," he said to Beach Head, "I'll just get this Havoc off to Fort Huachuca, and then we'll be on our way."

"Already gotcha covered."

"Thanks, Beach Head. I guess we'll see you later."

Flint found Cross Country and Dial-Tone already waiting beside their Havoc when he and Lady Jaye arrived. Lift ticket and Lifeline were just landing on the helipad. Flint waited until the runners touched down before climbing out of the Armadillo and handing the requisition orders to Lifeline. Then, together with Cross Country and Dial-Tone, they loaded and secured the Havoc. It didn't take long and within just a few minutes, Lift Ticket had already restarted the engine and the rotor blades began to turn. The wind picked up sand and threw it in all directions. Slowly, the Tomahawk lifted and flew away, taking the Havoc with it.

 _"_ _You be careful with my little girl!,"_ Cross Country gave a last cry. His face fell as it slowly grew smaller in the distance, "And I just got the hang of desert driving, too," he muttered sadly.

"Well, maybe we can take it easy for awhile," Dial-Tone suggested hopefully.

"Sorry guys, not this time," Flint walked up to them. "Since you're both out of a vehicle, you've already been volunteered," he informed them, "I need two more Joes."

"For what?"

Lady Jaye was already waiting in the armadillo. She leaned forward in her seat and grinned, "Just some " _petty ante mission"_ Hawk's sending us on."

Dial-Tone looked at Cross Country and shrugged, "Why not? It's not like we got anything better to do."

"I'm game if you are," Cross Country agreed.

"Hop in you two," Lady Jaye gave a laugh, "the more the merrier."

As Flint slid into his seat and put the Armadillo in gear, he listened to their laughter and easy banter, all the while hiding his own misgivings. Something about the mission didn't feel right and it was tugging at his gut. He had a bad feeling that it was going to be a much more difficult than either Lady Jaye or the guys had guessed.

He stepped on the gas, and the Armadillo sped lightly across the sand.

" _Yo Joe!_ " Lady Jaye gave an exuberant cry.

The wind picked up, whipping and tugging at their hair and clothes. Lady Jaye leaned back in her seat and smiled. With any luck, desert training would be finished by the time they returned from their mission. Her grin widened.

She reached over and gave Flint's hand a happy squeeze.

Like always, Lady Jaye had a way of pulling him from his dark, brooding thoughts. A smile slowly replaced the frown on his face.

* * *

After reporting back to General Hawk, Beach Head headed to the PT course to find Dusty and inform him of Flint's team and their departure.

"Looks like it's down to you and me to finish the training," he crossed his arms over his wide chest.

"Don't worry, Beach, we can handle it…,"

Dusty turned suddenly to yell at the Joes running through the training course. He had noticed them slowing, "Come on Joes, Hop to it! Show me what yer made of!"

Beach Head raised an eyebrow and smirked, "Ya know, Dusty, If I didn't know any better, I'd say ya was sounding a bit like me."

"Naw, that's impossible Beach…no one can sound like you. You're an original, a true one of a kind."

As he turned, Beach Head just caught the glimpse of Dusty's wide grin. He wasn't sure whether Dusty had meant that as a compliment or not. He was wise enough not to ask.

Dusty glanced at the stopwatch and nodded as the last Joes crossed the finish line, bending over and breathing in ragged, heavy breaths.

"Alright Joes, take a water break and then meet me on the firing range. I'll see all you in twenty. We start exactly then. Don't be late."

"Awww…., man," the exhausted Joes grumbled, stumbling to the tanks to replenish their canteens.

They gravitated to areas of shade, and then collapsed.

"Dusty's sure got it in for us today," Ace sank to the ground with a loud groan.

The Joes around him nodded wearily agreement.

"He's pushing us hard, and that's the truth," Road Block opened his canteen and drank thirstily.

"Just...need...to...rest, " Shipwreck panted. "Wake me... if I fall asleep,... Road Block," he muttered, leaning back into sand and closing his eyes.

"That, I can do, mon ami," he leaned back with a chuckle, crossing his arms behind his head.

Dusty was man true to his word. Exactly twenty-five minutes later, he was already in front of the same group of Joes, well into his latest lecture on desert combat.

He was pacing back and forth, his face unusually serious. He had come to the most important part of the entire training, combat.

"Yer Joes, I know that. You all know how to fire weapons. I get that, too. But, you need to be aware that fighting in the desert is gonna be different from what yer used to."

He stopped and swept his gaze over the assembled group, briefly meeting the eyes of each.

"For one thing, the sun may well be yer greatest enemy," he gave a quick glance upwards.

"Avoid the glare of sun overhead…It can leave you blinded. Also keep yer weapons low so the sun don't shine off yer rifles. A reflection in the desert can be seen miles away, giving away yer position. And finally, be aware that the desert heat can cause your rifles to overheat. An overheated rifle will cause a world of problems. Try to keep them in the shade whenever you can, even if it means using the shade side of yer own body."

The Joes listened carefully. Everything he said was making sense, so far. This practical side of the training sobered them. They all realised desert play time was over.

"The sand will be another challenge you have to deal with," Dusty continued, "Besides the obvious sand underneath you, sand also blows up and around and in the air. Fine particles can get into yer weapons and jam the mechanisms. Do what ya can to keep yer rifles clean. I can't emphasise that enough. We all know what happens when we get into situations where our weapons don't work."

The Joes muttered and nodded their heads in agreement. A few faces even grew visibly paler. Some were all too aware of what could happen, having experienced it themselves in combat and then miraculously lived to tell the tale.

"By now, you should have realised you can't move as quickly in sand…," Dusty paused, and then he suddenly broke into a grin, "but the best part is that neither can the bad guy…so use it to yer advantage. Every disadvantage can be turned around to your advantage. Yes, the sun and the sand can be your enemies, but they can also be your greatest allies. Stay sharp. Think smart," he smiled, tapping the side of his head. "You'd be amazed at what you can do with just a little bit of ingenuity."

Dusty then walked the Joes through preparations for a desert battle including the firing of weapons, how to find cover, and how to cover for each other. The Joes listened, took notes, and whispered to one another. Dusty's information was good.

Dusty took a deep breath and smiled, "And that's all there is to it, folks. Now, you get to apply what you've learned. I'm dividing you into two teams, red and white. Were gonna do a desert combat version of capture the flag."

"That means means we use paint guns," Beach Head explained with a wicked grin, noticing a scattering of puzzled faces.

The Joes were silent as the meaning of his words soaked in and then they all began talking at once, in eager, animated voices.

"Settle down! Settle down!" Dusty yelled above the roar, laughing, "I haven't finished, yet."

The Joes slowly and reluctantly quieted and then turned their attention back to Dusty, at the front.

"Ok guys, same situations that we just talked about apply. If yer gonna fight Cobra in the desert, you have to learn to deal with the sun and the sand, how to use it to yer advantage. Otherwise yer gonna be fighting two enemies instead of just one. This is yer time to figure that out."

"Paint guns are in the crates to the left, ammo beside it," he gave a sweep in the general direction with his arm, "Grab one and form yer teams. Captains will be Spirit and Ace." He handed flags to the Team Captains, red to Ace, white to Spirit. "Red team to the left, white to the right."

"The whistle will blow in fifteen minutes to signal the start. Yo Joe!," he cried.

"Yo Joe!", their echoing cries rose up loudly.

The Joes grabbed their weapons and divided, quickly finding their teams. Everyone was talking excitedly and loudly. Then as teams, they hid their flags and then began developing their plan of attack.

Fifteen minutes later, Dusty's whistle broke through the secret huddles and the game began.

The teams spread out, the sound of paint guns being fired quickly filled the air, yells of glee as paint splotches hit their marks.

"Gotcha!"

"Awww, man," Ripcord looked down at the sticky spot of red on his side.

"Go to jail," Road Block laughed, ducking out of sight once more, "You're out for a spell."

The jails began slowly filling with red and white paint spotted Joes.

Spirit, the Captain of the White team, had carefully set into motion his plan. He had several Joes scale the tallest dunes, looking for a vantage point, hoping to spot the red team's flag. One of them got lucky.

Looking over the sand, Footloose let out a low chuckle.

"Spirit, man…," he waved his arms and pointed toward the right in exaggerated movements.

Spirit saw him and waved an acknowledgement. "Shipwreck, Footloose says the flag is that way," he pointed, speaking in hushed tones, "Seek it and I will send aid when the moment is right."

"On my way, Spirit. Let's hope this works," he winked.

"It will work."

He signalled to Alpine and Bazooka, already taking longer way, to circle widely. They were taking care to not to be seen.

Shipwreck slowly made his way from dune to dune, ducking, and crawling and keeping out of sight. He avoided the most active paint fight areas. He was determined to get as close as he could without detection. Then he dug a small trench and slipped inside, covering himself lightly with the sand. And… he waited.

Spirit continued to direct the battle from where he was, keeping tabs on Shipwreck's slow progress. When Shipwreck was in position, he gave the signal and his white team suddenly attacked in mass. The red team retaliated instantly, charging against them, just as he had planned.

Shipwreck, silent and unmoving in his hiding place, waited. Once the red team had been led away, he popped out the sand. Shipwreck signalled behind him to Alpine and Bazooka who were just arriving. They had to move quickly, before they were spotted.

"Grab the flag," he yelled as he pointed his weapon at the only Green Shirt left behind to guard the flag.

Bazooka lumbered forward, "I got it."

"I'll signal," Alpine called, scrambling to the top of the nearest dune and waving his arms widely.

Spirit waved his arms from top of his dune several dunes over.

"Freedom, go," he cried, pointing across to Alpine.

The Red team watched Freedom sweep down and fly silently, skimming just the tops of the dunes. Then they realised where he was going and their eyes widened.

"No…" Ace cried.

"They're after our flag."

"Hurry."

"Mutt, Quick Kick, see if you can find their flag while they are occupied," Ace ordered, "The rest of you, get our flag back!"

Mutt and Quick Kick followed Junkyard at run. Junkyard headed straight toward Spirit and then made an abrupt turn to the right.

"Where's he going?," Quick Kick yelled.

"I don't know. Just keep following. He knows."

Junkyard gave a happy bark.

"That a boy, Junk, find me that flag," Mutt yelled.

Paint balls began landing in the sand around him. Yells from an angry white team grew louder.

"Quickly. Around that dune," Mutt yelled. Junkyard and Quick Kick scrambled around behind with him.

Paintballs stopped as the dune stood between them.

"Good boy." Mutt looked around, patting Junkyard on his thick, hot neck. Junkyard's tongue was hanging out as far as it could. "The flag's gotta be somewhere over there," Mutt pointed behind them, "Probably behind one of these dunes."

"I think I can help with that. Did somebody call for a little interference?," Quick Kick grinned and pointed up, "Time for some fancy footwork."

"Here, you'll need this," Mutt growled, handing Quick Kick his paint rifle.

"Alright! Twice the fun!" he laughed, holding up rifles in each hand, "And away we go…," Quick Kick easily scrambled up the side, to the top, taking care to keep the rifles from touching the sand. Then he shimmied to the edge on his stomach. The white team Joes had just reached the other side of their dune.

"This way!"

"They went over here."

Carefully taking aim, Quick Kick began laying a cover fire.

"Go, Mutt!," Quick Kick yelled behind him.

"Come on, Junk. Lead me to that flag."

Junkyard barked happily.

Spirit was still standing on the tall dune, directing his part of the battle. He watched as Freedom flew straight to Alpine, circled, spotted Bazooka and then swooped in to grab the flag. Once clasped in his claw, he stretched his great wings and beat the air, rising higher and higher. He circled once more and flew straight back toward Spirit.

Spirit straightened tall and proud, a triumphant gleam in his eye. Victory was in the air.

Freedom gave a cry as he swept over his head. He opened his claw and the flag dropped. Everyone watched in silence as the red flag blazed against the bright sun, fluttering down in slow motion. Spirit reached out and in one smooth motion caught it mid air. As he held it aloft, a wind picked up. The red flag raised and rippled in the breeze. The White team exploded into cheers! They had won.

Dusty and Beach Head stood to the side, shaking with amusement. The Joes never did anything without a bit of flair, even in a mock battle, and that had been an ending worthy of an epic movie.

Both been admittedly impressed by the Joes' use of what they had learned, as well as their ingenuity, including the clever use of Joe animals. The Joes had done all the things Dusty told them; they kept their rifles out of the sand and the sun; they used high places to their advantage; they learned how and where to take cover; they worked together as a team.

All in all, they performed as Joes.


	9. Chapter 9

_This story is rapidly winding to a close. Just one more chapter until completion. I hope you have enjoyed reading as much as I have enjoyed writing. Thanks for following along...I appreciate it, truly._

 _Once again, direct quotes are italicised. All quotes are taken from the Gi Joe Sunbow episode,_ _The Spy Who Rooked Me._

 _Usual Disclaimer: I don't own GI Joe._

* * *

Dusty's hands were shaking slightly and his mouth was dry. This was to be his final lesson for the Joes' desert training and for some reason he could not fathom, he found himself just as nervous as he had been during the first lesson.

He stood at the front as usual, a table covered with curious objects he'd prepared off to the side. His gaze swept over the large group of red faced Joes sprawled out on the sand before him, busily towelling sweat from their faces and necks. The familiarity of it tugged at his memory, and he had to smile.

Some things never changed.

"Today, were gonna cover signalling," he announced loudly, "And, one of the simplest and most effective ways to signal in the desert is by using the sun and a reflective surface."

As he recited the various uses of signals, his eyes were drawn past the Joes to the sand and dunes beyond. The desert remained a back drop, at once both familiar and comforting, just as it had during the entire desert training. As he filled his vision with the soft golden sand and the gentle, sloping curves of dunes, he felt his voice steady, and his confidence return.

"You can use signals to communicate location or readiness or any other predetermined meaning with teammates. If ya find yourself lost or injured or sick, signalling can also be used to get the attention of an aircraft, or a search and rescue party looking for you."

"Any reflective material can be used for signalling…although a mirror is often the best and easiest to use, it doesn't have to be a mirror. A simple, shiny soda can could do the trick in a pinch. And don't forget the tarps for your sun shelter, there's a reason they're made of a reflective material. Other reflective materials could be glass, tin can lids, CD's, or even a watch face."

"I want you all to take a minute and think about what you have on you, right now. Which of those items could be used as a reflective material to send signals? Take it out and hold it up. Everyone will probably find that they have at least one."

All the Joes began digging deep into their pockets, patting down pant legs, muttering to one another in distracted voices. They unbuckled watches and then leaned on their sides, or rose to their knees, pulling out anything that might be of use. Stalker even pulled out a highly polished combat knife. The sun caught and threw reflections in all directions as it bounced off the various objects.

Once the Joes had finished their searches and resettled into sitting positions, Dusty glanced over all their shiny objects, "Very good. Yes…, perfect..," he nodded with approval, "Hang on to those, you'll be needing them in a few minutes."

Then, he continued his lecture, "On the table over here, I have a large assortment of reflective items. I want each person to try two or three different reflective materials and practice sending signals. If you have something on you, try it. If you need something, feel free to take from this table. In a real life situation, you never know what you may end up having to use, so it's always good to practice with various materials."

"We'll head to the firing range to try them out. Let's go. Yo Joe!"

"Yo Joe!"

At the firing range, the Joes engaged in playful competition, taking turns trying to catch the sun and throw it across the flat to the dunes beyond.

"Dude, did you see that one? It was totally awesome…"

"Yup, Footloose, I saw it. Now, watch this," Ripcord turned and did a behind the back signal.

"Crazy, man," Footloose laughed, "Now check this one out…"

"Nice…," Ripcord grinned approvingly.

They continued back and forth until the 15 minutes were up and Dusty called out for them to switch. The Joes laughed and joked lightly as they pulled out their second reflective materials.

"Catch a flash of the sun, and the signalling's done," Road Block hummed softly to himself. He was smoothing the aluminium foil wrapper from a piece of chewing gum.

Getting the right angle took practice and a bit of perseverance, especially when trying different materials. Some objects worked better than others, some created a brighter reflection. The Joes practiced with them all, with varying degrees of success. All morning long, the far dunes shone brightly with their reflected sunlight.

"I'd say they're about ready," Dusty said, a satisfied gleam in his eye.

"Looks like it, don't it," Beach Head agreed gruffly.

They stood side by side, watching the Joes wind up their signalling practice and the last desert training lesson, "Ya done well, Dusty."

Dusty turned suddenly to look at Beach Head, "Thanks, Beach Head," he said in surprise, "That means a lot, coming from you."

"Yer welcome," he grunted, his brown eyes twinkling. Beach Head continued to watch him from the corner of his eye, nodding his approval once again.

"All right Joes, that was great work…," Dusty yelled, cupping his hands over his mouth, "You can all have the rest of the afternoon off."

"Alright!"

"Yo Joe!"

"It's about time!," Shipwreck's voice rose loudly above the others'.

"Shipwreck!"

"Well, it is," he cried indignantly.

* * *

Early the next morning, Beach Head and Dusty were waiting for yet, another, leaders' meeting with General Hawk. They were seated on opposite sides of the table, facing the two way com.

"Beach Head, Dusty, are you both there?," Hawk's voice abruptly broke the silence.

"Yes, Sir, we are," Dusty grinned at Beach Head.

"Good. I just finished speaking with Dial-Tone."

"Dial-Tone? Not Flint? Is everything Ok?," Dusty asked, leaning in closer, a worried expression replacing the grin on his face. Beach Head's face was also grim.

Back at the Pitt, Hawk had to take a deep breath before continuing. Flint's team, _his_ Joes, were in trouble…and _he_ had put them there, sending them out on that decoy mission of Burke's.

"They are ok for now," he gritted his teeth, "but Flint's team is in need of support. Dial-Tone just informed me they've got half the Cobra army after them. Flint and Lady Jaye are trying to hold them off until help comes. Dusty, what's the status of the Joes?"

Dusty looked to Beach Head who held two thumbs up. Then he grinned and answered proudly, "Sir, the Joes are ready."

They could hear him smiling over the com, "That's what I was hoping to hear. So, how quickly can you two get the Joes moving?"

"Within the hour, Sir."

"Good. I'll send you the coordinates of Flint's last known location. I want every available Joe backing up Flint's team."

"Understood. We won't fail you, Sir."

"I know you won't. Hawk out."

"Let's call the team, Dusty," Beach Head's eyes darkened, "We've got Joes in trouble."

"I'm with you, Beach Head. Let's go!"

"Yo Joe!"

"Yo Joe!"

Just as Dusty had promised, within the hour, all the Joes were speeding over the top of the sand following the coordinates Hawk had sent. As they neared their destination, a lone vehicle was seen approaching, a long cloud of dust behind it. As it came closer, they could see that it was a Cobra vehicle. The Joes readied their weapons.

The Cobra Stun came up fast, and then hit the brakes hard.

"Hey, it's just us, Good Buddies. Don't shoot," Cross Country cried out, standing up in his seat so they could get a good look at him.

"Dial-Tone, Cross Country," Dusty and Beach Head immediately lowered their weapons, "What are you doing here…in a Cobra Stun? Where's Flint…and Lady Jaye?" They looked around wildly, half expecting to see another vehicle approaching.

"Flint sent us to get help," Dial-Tone said breathlessly, "It's a good thing we ran into you."

"Hawk already told us about Cobra," Beach Head cut in, "Where's everyone holed up?"

"In a ravine back there a ways..." Cross Country began.

Beach Head and Dusty talked with Cross Country and Dial-Tone for only a a few minutes before coming up with a plan. The Joe drivers and their vehicles would head out immediately, following the Cobra stun.

"The rest of us are gonna make a sneak attack," Dusty grinned wickedly, "desert style." He gathered the Joes to him and began whispering his plan.

"…and so, I'll give three flashes when everyone is in place. After the third flash, count to five slowly."

"Got it, Dusty."

"We'll be ready."

"Yo Joe," they whispered.

They hiked the rest of the way, Beach Head leading them at a quick pace across the loose sand. Once the ravine was in sight, Dusty waved a hand, signalling to the Joes behind him. Immediately, the teams of ten spread to circle the ridge…silently…just as they had planned and then hunkered down, half buried in the sand, until all the other teams were in position.

Dusty watched for their signals, mapping the locations, carefully counting them off in his head. Finally, all the Joes were in place and the last signal was flashed. Dusty quickly signalled three flashes back, and then counted to five. As one, the Joes all rose up, sand rolling off their backs. The entire ridge was instantly and completely encircled, with no way in or out. They stood silent and still, a forbidding and threatening wall of heavily armed soldiers.

It was a good thing for Dr. Mindbender that he and and all his troops had already slipped away. They would have been caught in Dusty's snare.

The Joes set their sights on the unknown person with Flint's team, raising all weapons and pointing them in his direction.

The tuxedo clad stranger turned a slow circle. His eyes widened as he realised the entire ridge above him was lined with somber faced Joes.

"Well, now. I say, Chaps, what's the meaning of all this?"

"Hands up. Don't move," Beach Head demanded.

The stranger slowly raised his hands over his head, "Really, now…I must say…"

"Who are you?" Dusty asked, stepping forward to stand next to Beach Head.

"Beach? Dusty? Is that you two?," Lady Jaye tilted her head up as she squinted at black silhouettes lining the ridge above her. "Stand down. This is Super Agent Matthew Burke. We've been working together."

She cast quick glances toward the volatile faces of Dial-Tone, Cross Country and then lastly, Flint. Her gaze lingered longest on him, her own confusion and anger and frustration clearly visible in her eyes.

"Mindbender's already gone. He got away," she gave a weary sigh, turning her attention back to the Joes above.

The Joes lowered their weapons.

"We're coming down," Dusty yelled, "Wait just a second."

The Joes in the ravine watched as Beach Head and Dusty carefully made their way down the ridge to the dry valley below. Five minutes later, they were on the bottom.

"It's good to see you all in one piece," Dusty grinned.

"You alright?" Beach Head asked, eyeing them critically.

'We're just fine, Beach Head," Lady Jaye smiled, "Thanks for asking."

"Hey, Flint what happened to you?," Dusty pointed to the front of his wet uniform shirt.

Flint's face darkened. He balled his fists in anger.

Lady Jaye cast an icy glare toward Matthew Burke and then took a couple of steps nearer to Flint, halting uncertainly.

"Nothing…Nothing at all," she hissed between gritted teeth.

Flint's eyes blazed for just a moment and then his face became sullen and brooding, his jaw clenched.

Dusty looked from Lady Jaye to Flint, in bewilderment.

"Don't mind them…they just have something they need to work out," Dial-Tone whispered, a half smirk on his face.

"Wonderful…," Beach Head grumbled under his breath, rolling his eyes heavenward, "Just what I needed…another lover's spat."

"Awww, Beach," Dusty drawled, "We all know yer just a softy," he grinned widely.

"Come on," Cross Country laughed softly, "Let me introduce you to the…uh, Agent Burke," he made a slight grimace as he said his name.

Lady Jaye took another hesitant step toward Flint.

He stiffened.

From the moment Agent Burke had cast that first lingering glance towards Lady Jaye, the green eyed monster in him had reared his ugly head and Flint had acted the jealous fool. He had been possessive and overprotective, afraid of losing her, afraid that she might see the real Flint, beneath all the bluster and pride…

It didn't come as a surprise to Flint that Lady Jaye had caught Burke's eye. Every eye always turned when she walked into a room, although she never saw it. Lady Jaye was beautiful, intelligent, sophisticated and courageous, just the kind of woman a Matthew Burke would find irresistible. And Matthew Burke, in turn, was everything a woman could desire, he was James Bond in the flesh, tall, dark and handsome, and oh so… _saviour faire._

In Flint's mind, there could be no doubt that Lady Jaye should choose, would choose, the suave and sophisticated "Matt" over Flint, a simple farm boy from the midwest. He kicked at the sand with his foot and scowled.

"You didn't have to cover for me, there…," he grumbled.

"That's not what I was doing, Flint," her eyes flashed.

"No, then what, Lady Jaye?," he snapped.

She stepped closer, till she was directly in front of him, "Do you think I could be so easily swayed, Flint," she asked softly, the hurt catching in her voice, "by him?"

He raised his eyes slowly, his mouth opened and shut again. He stared at her, the sun beating down on her head, setting her hair ablaze with a thousand shades of red and brown. Her face was calm and pale, even under her sunburn. She stood before him, strong and completely exposed at the same time.

"Do you really think so little of me?," she whispered a second time, her words falling from her lips like broken fragments.

"No," A million answers flashed in his head. All and none were true. He stripped them down, to deepest, most vulnerable part of himself, and shuddered at what he found.

Lady Jaye continued to stare at him, waiting patiently for an answer.

"No," he gave a small, sad smile, "No, Lady Jaye. You are the most true-hearted person I've ever known. I think… I think the world of you."

"Then, why…?," her voice broke.

He swallowed and licked his lips. Slowly, very slowly, he gave voice to his thoughts, "It's not you, Lady Jaye,…it's me…I don't think…, I mean, I'm not enough…for you…," his voice came out in halting whispers.

And there it was, his insecurities laid bare before her. He was ashamed, ashamed and embarrassed by the exhibition of his deepest fears, their role in his recent behaviour. He lowered his head.

Lady Jaye listened in silence, a red flush slowly creeping up her cheeks. She reached out a trembling hand and lifted his chin, lifted it so that their eyes met. She had to know. She searched them, carefully, and found only bare truth and something more, deeper…a fear and …yes,... love.

Her heart began beating rapidly in her chest. She swallowed the growing lump in her throat.

"Don't you know _you_ are everything I want. Everything I have ever wanted," She whispered hoarsely, "I love… you."

The pent up emotions exploded within Flint, and he found himself shaking, trembling. His cheeks were wet, though he didn't remember having cried. He wrapped his arms around her and held her firmly against his heart, holding on to her as if he would never let her go.

"I love you, too," he murmured into her hair.

They stood together for a few moments, trembling in one another's arms. Then slowly, Lady Jaye reached up and pulled his head down to her and kissed him, at first tentative and then with more passion.

The Joes erupted in cheers and catcalls.

"Well, I guess you win some and you lose some," Burke muttered, watching them with their arms around one other.

"That you do, Good Buddy," Cross Country laughed.

Burke frowned and pulled out a small controller and pressed the button. It began to blink, in yellow and green coloured lights. "I've just called my _Auntie_ for a ride. I'd like to say it's been fun, but I'm not one to tell a lie." He reached up and grabbed hold of the rope ladder suddenly hanging just above him from a helicopter.

"Tally Ho! Good Bye, Joes. It seems my work here is done."

Seconds later, he was aloft, disappearing into the clouded distance.

"Good bye and good riddance," Dial-Tone muttered.

"I'll say," Cross Country's eyes glinted, "Though, I'd still like a chance to _clean his clock_!" He made a fist and slammed it into the palm of his other hand.


	10. Chapter 10

_And so, the story of Dusty comes to an end. He is a challenging character, I discovered, good natured and amiable, but also intensely private. There's a lot more going on inside his head than one would think and he tends to hide those thoughts behind a friendly smile. It's easy to see why he has so many friends among the Joes. I enjoyed getting to know him, even if just a little. I hope you did, too._

 _Final disclaimer: I still don't own GI Joe, Sunbow or Marvel...I just like borrowing their characters._

* * *

Dusty entered the Joe meeting room. He stared in confusion as he noticed the room filled to capacity with already seated Joes. General Hawk was at his usual place in the front, Duke, Flint and Beach Head, seated in a line beside him.

"Welcome, Dusty," Hawk interrupted his thoughts, "Do you have the special report I requested?"

"Uh, Yes Sir," Dusty drawled, stepping forward nervously and handing a thick folder to him.

He stood patiently, waiting as Hawk skimmed over the contents, watching as his eyebrow's rose slowly with the reading. Dusty had ended up listing each and every Joe who went through his camp as excelling in desert combat training.

Finally, the General put the folder down. Chuckling lightly, he leaned back in his chair. He looked up at Dusty and smiled, "I should never have doubted them."

Then, he turned to the Joes, a humorous glint in his eye, "Looks like we can all skip desert training next year," he announced loudly.

"Hooray!," the room full of Joes erupted in joy, exchanging fist bumps and high fives, laughing and cheering.

In that whole room of jubilant celebration, there was only one face of disappointment...Dusty's.

Hawk returned his gaze to Dusty, studying him with a bemused expression. When the room had finally resettled, he spoke again, gently, "You know, Dusty, not everyone is cut out for desert living…"

Dusty nodded.

"And not everyone can appreciate the desert like you do."

Dusty nodded again.

"But, I'm pleased to know my Joes are well prepared for missions out there...very pleased."

Dusty looked at the General in surprise.

Hawk smiled, "I'm proud of you, Son. You did a good job."

"Thank you, Sir," Dusty smiled humbly.

"Oh, and Dusty?" Hawk's piercing eyes looked straight at him.

"Yes, Sir?," Dusty swallowed nervously. His smile faded.

"This desert training wasn't just about training the Joes and getting them ready for desert combat and missions."

"It…it wasn't?," Dusty stammered.

No, it wasn't," he held Dusty's eyes, "It was also about testing out new Joe leaders…"

Chairs scraped and squeaked loudly as every Joe in the room suddenly rose to attention.

"Leaders, Sir?," His eyes widened as he glanced around at the now standing Joes, licking his lips nervously.

"Yes," Hawk suddenly smiled, "May I be the first to congratulate you," he stepped forward and pinned him, "Sergeant Ronald Tadur."

Dusty's eyes widened. "Thank you…, Sir," he tripped over the words, the realisation of what had just happened dawning on him.

The Joes clapped and cheered. Beach Head and Flint stepped forward and slapped him good-naturedly on the back. Duke shook his hand.

"No, thank you. Keep up the good work, Dusty."

"Sir, Yes, Sir!," Dusty fired off a smart salute. He was grinning proudly from ear to ear.

"Yo Joe!," The Joes voices lifted as one, rising and filling the room till it nearly was bursting with joy.

Hawk swept his eyes over the cheering Joes. They came to rest on Flint and Lady Jaye, who were now standing side by side, so close that their hands were nearly touching. He met their eyes candidly. Flint, understanding what he was asking, acknowledged him and gave the barest of nods, Lady Jaye smiled softly and nodded as well.

The lines of worry along his brow faded. He was pleased to see that in spite of everything, he still had their friendship.

"Road Block prepared some trays of goodies. They're in the mess. Enjoy!," Duke informed everyone.

"Yo Joe!" Dusty laughed, as he was swept along with the crowd of high spirited Joes.

"Yo Joe," Hawk echoed softly, watching him go.

As the rest of the Joes departed, Hawk made out individual faces in the crowd: Shipwreck, Bazooka, Alpine, Gung Ho, Ace, Footloose... Quick Kick.

He stood watching them, his chest swelling with pride. _They were his Joes_ , he smiled, _each and every last one of them._

 _Yo Joe._

 _-Finis-_

* * *

 _Note : Dusty's Joe file lists him as an E-4 Corporal. In my story, I have just promoted him to E-5 Sergeant. Considering what he's just accomplished, I think he's earned it, don't you?_

 _Additional notes: I don't have any personal experience with the military, so I have to confess all my knowledge comes second hand. I stand up in honour of those of you have first hand knowledge. Thank you for your service._

 _Acknowledgements to Wikipedia for the following information: ( **bolded** sections mine.)_

 _Army Non-Commissioned Officers (E-4 to E-6)_

 _Corporal (E-4)_

 _The rank of corporal has always been placed at the base of the NCO ranks. For the most part, corporals have served as the smallest unit leaders in the Army: principally,_ ** _leaders of teams._**

 _Sergeant (E-5)_

 _The first NCO rank is the E5, or Sergeant. These are the NCOs who carry the most impact when it comes to_ ** _training_** _and_ ** _supervising_** _junior enlisted personnel in military life and personal care._

* * *

 _To Guest reader Please Adopt: You have a great idea for a story, thank you for sending it. It is very Sunbow-ish and has good potential for humour. It's not the kind of story I think I could write, though, at this time...but maybe some other reader/writer will pick it up. Or maybe you could take a stab at it...It's always fun to see new Joe writers._


End file.
